El Modelo de Magia
by Kuroi Kokoro 09
Summary: Longing to be free from controls, a man chose his career as a model. Aspiring after dreams, a family-yearning woman resolved to be his make-up artist and cohabitant. When the iceberg meets the warm current, what kind of sparks would be ignited?
1. A Nightmare, Definitely a Nightmare

**Although it's gruesome long months to get this done, I'm so happy to have it all done at last! It's the longest story (not by means of chapters but words) I've ever posted until now!**

**I was picking up novels to read from my bookshelf when I came across one; it's one of my favourites by a Taiwanese writer. I couldn't help but fit the characters from Bleach into the story as I read through the lines; the characters are just so alike! Then I knew that I really have to write it!**

**A small warning: You may find that you're thinking, "Hey! That's not the characteristic/personality the character has as in the original anime/manga!" or "Hey! The relationships between characters are all messed up!" Yeah, I know that, but sometimes having a major change in characteristic/personality just add more spices to the story! I pretty love it! As for the second question, well...let's say that I'm just fitting someone random into it, except the major ones...?**

**Another thing is that you may find yourself confused with my story or not getting a clear picture. First, I apologize for such problematic situations; my English's still a long way from being perfect. Secondly, don't fret! I'll give necessary explanations to you whenever/wherever I see fit, just as how I've done in my other fic _The Moth Goddess and the Moon Warrior_, which by the way - sorry for not being humble - one of my proudest creations. I highly recommend you to spare some minutes reading that.**

**So without any further delay, here I present to you all...!**

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><p><em><strong>El Modelo de Magia<strong>_

_A model? No, no, no (wagging a finger), he's "El Modelo de Magia".  
><em>"_El Modelo de Magia"? What's that? Some delicacy? A new brand? Or…?  
><em>_Not a cuisine to be eaten, and could be used in a way,  
><em>_And most importantly, fall in love with someone—  
><em>_It's just that, he dislikes romance…_

**A Nightmare. Definitely a Nightmare.**

The first time the bell's rung and the door's opened, Orihime sucked in a sharp breath and almost choked herself.

Those two scintillating eyes…resembles so much as finely polished ambers under the honey-gold sunlight, reflecting sparks in the gems. Only a slight cock of the head, they vacuumed people's souls into them, like trapping fossils inside. On that head's a fall of hair that…it's like a heavenly weaving, with the rays of sunshine as threads on the loom.

"Can I draw a picture of you? Can I?! I won't let you sit for very long…ten minutes?! Is it fine with you? Oh, please…" She's paralysed for almost two minutes, and it seemed hard to stumble all those words out of her throat.

Her gorgeous landlady, taller than her by a head, blinked, "Ten minutes?"

"Yes! Yes! Please, just ten minutes!" Orihime's so worked up that she grabbed her slender, peachy-skinned hand. "Ten minutes would be more than—no, no—ten minutes would be _fine_! Oh, please ~ can I?!" Damn it! Why did I only bring my sketchbook and pencils and nothing else?!

A very minute tip of the corners appeared on the landlady's lips, "Alright, come in."

While Orihime's drawing, she's entirely in her own world. All she could sense was only this radiant fair before her eyes, as well as the ecstasy of drawing in high concentration.

The landlady judged her sketch for a couple of minutes and nodded in approval. "Very true-to-life."

"It's not only this simple!" Orihime's getting more agitated. "You…it's just not completed yet! If possible, I should use oil paints to contain your beauty…if you can give me a few days—no, a few months—I can…"

"Miss, have you come to rent a room or to draw?" Her voice's deep, captivating her listener.

"To draw, of—" No, no…gah! What am I doing?! "To rent a room! Rent a room! I'm sorry; I-I just…when I'm facing with drawing-related things…I'm just really…"

"You have a year's time." The landlady handed the sketch back. "If you like it here, you'll have the time to draw me."

Orihime's stupefied; she's desperately in need of a house to live in. Even if the house's made of carton paper boxes, which would get all soggy in the tiniest rain, she's made up her mind that she'd absolutely, definitely staying in there! It's just…she's getting a bit intimidated as she glanced at the grand and nice living room.

"This is your room." The landlady led her to a bedroom and opened the door elegantly. "It's formerly occupied by my make-up artist, but I've just fired her. She doesn't have really good tastes. Go ahead and get rid of anything you don't like."

Orihime's jaw dropped as low as possible. A huge bed with a drape falling from the ceiling, curtains frilled with laces, a writing desk and another way-larger make-up desk…it's out of the league of her imagination! However, the walls were filled with the posters of B'z and many other idols and stars who she couldn't recall their names. They really clashed with the grand room disgustingly.

"Can I remove the posters?" She asked shyly.

"Of course; just do as you like. So? Do you want to move in?" Even though she didn't show her smile, she's still so attractive that she's breathtaking.

"Err…my budget…" She's, for the past three months, still jobless. All the money she's saved up just wouldn't allow her to be indulging in such sinful luxury.

"How much's it? Your budget." The landlady leant against the door frame, showing off her fine slender figure.

"…10…10,000 yen…**(1)**" Orihime's face's in a new shade of red. She'd probably laugh at me for going beyond my depths, right? Argh, if only she's asked about it in the phone call at the first hand…

"Then 10,000." She began to put on her earrings. "Let's sign the contract now. I've got to go on the runway."

"Go…on the runway?" Orihime tilted her head to a side.

"I'm a model." She took out the contract from a file and warned, "Just don't move out within the year."

"No, no, I won't…" Oh-ooh…no wonder she's so pretty…

"I'm Kurosaki; Kurosaki Ichigo **(2)**." She shook hands with Orihime lightly. Strawberry…huh? What a lovely name for such a perfect beauty like her, Orihime thought to herself.

"Ino…Inoue Orihime. Just Orihime would be fine." She bowed hastily.

"I'm a bit aloof, so please don't arouse any unnecessary disturbances if possible. Also, please don't bring in any men." Ichigo handed the keys to her.

"I'm…I don't have a boyfriend." Orihime flushed red again.

And so, she move into this palatial house **(3)**. At the first two weeks, there's no space in Orihime's mind to find a job. All she did was drawing her fair landlady **(4)** feverously.

Ichigo's not one with many words. If there're no fashion shows, she'd spent most of the time in her room. The other thing's that the rhythms of their daily routines were different: Orihime woke with the dawn, while Ichigo's still in bed until the sun's in the middle of the sky, which made them only to meet at night. Unless Orihime knocked on her door, she rarely started a conversation with her. However, she never rejected Orihime's requests of drawing her. She'd quietly sit by a side, allowing Orihime to draw her apathetic face.

How she wished she could use oil paints; linoleum just won't go with it. Even if they're water paints, she'd frenziedly try her very best to oblige in the happiness of creating. The night when the painting's almost done, she even stayed up without a second of rest to lay down the finishing touches, completing the portrait that she's very proud of.

She slept till midday after working throughout the whole night. Being a lovely sleepy-head she is, she trod into the bathroom like a zombie, only to have her eyes wide as saucers…

Her attractive co-habitant's shaving.

H-ha ha…a-a fair like her has got so much hair on the face that needs a shave? Perhaps she's of mixed blood with a foreigner that—

But on Ichigo's upper torso were strong and flat pectorals.

In the next second, the house's filled with her shocked shrills.

"Y-Y-You…" Orihime shrieked. "You're a man?!"

"What? You've been living here for two weeks and you haven't realized that?" Ichigo put down the shaver and checked the smoothened chin. "Lower down your volume; my eardrums are rather sensitive."

"You're always in women's clothes! How should I know?!" Oh God ~ I'm living in a house with a psycho?! No freaking way! "Don't you dare to come a step closer, you hear that?! You p-psych…"

"Missy, my proper career's a 'fitting model for women's wears'. Why won't I be wearing women's clothes?" He began to apply skin-care products. "But I've never worn any dresses around the house, have I?" He kept quiet for a moment, massaging his face slovenly. "Besides, which part of me tells you I'm a woman?"

That's just as amusing as honey's not sweet, men aren't thinking over things with the lower half of their body…

"Which part of you _doesn't_ look like a woman?!" She shrilled. "If all men are as good-looking as you are, then what about us?! What about us women's faces and honours?!"

"You'll still have them on your head, naturally." He turned to face her tranquilly. Orihime felt like she's going to have a mental derange. That charming face on _strong pectorals_ and _visible six-packs_…IMPOSSIBLE! She couldn't accept that!

"Put on your clothes immediately! Oh, my eyes!" Her shrieks turned into a howl, for Ichigo boldly removed the towel on his waist. "What're you doing, you sicko?! I'm yet married!" She wailed and covered her eyes.

"Aren't you asking me to wear my clothes?" He put on his attire without haste. "How can I wear my towel in them?"

Her face's as red as a pig's liver, dashed into her room, snatched the portrait that she's spent two painstaking weeks to finish and threw it at Ichigo's face.

"You're giving it to me?" He took it with grace and admired it.

"I'm afraid I'll have mental disorders!" Oh, where's my elegant, angelic yet detached fair landlady gone to?! I just _won't_ keep a picture of a lunatic! "I'm moving out! Return my deposit!"

"Nonsense." He sat down casually. "I'll frame it up tomorrow. Hmm, you've got really good senses in colours…you know how to apply make-up?"

"It's a huge knowledge in the field of mastering colours…" Orihime edged herself closer. "The lines may seem right, but the colours may crash horribly. I've originally planned to draw your makeunder, but I felt that you're more suitable to have some make-ups…it may bring out your cool and noble temperament…"

W-Wait, what am I doing?!

"Hey! What's 'nonsense'?!" She's extremely mad with her easily-distracted character. "It's _not_ an ethic for a single man and a single woman, stranger to each other, living under the same roof! I'm still unmarried!"

"I won't force you to marry me. Besides, I lock the door during the night." He's still very calm in the storm of her rage. "What're you scared of when I'm not?"

Oh, yes, he's not scared—eh?

"Hey! What're you bluffing about?! 'Lock the door'? _I_ should be the one who's locking!" Steam's rising from her ears. "Return my deposit and rent! I'm still jobless!"

Orihime recoiled as Ichigo stood up and rummaged in the drawers for a while. "The contract's stated you're staying here for 'a year'. If you don't…" He shook his head. "I'm not in pretty good terms with the court."

Orihime's eyes were nearly popping out their sockets; she's never seen such unreasonable landlords in her life until now. Comparing with him, Kira Izuru's as easygoing as a bodhisattva.

"You…you can't do that!" He's threatening me, right? This psycho's threatening me!

"Yep, I'm threatening you. Don't wear a doubt." He waved the contract in his hand. "I hate finding other tenants, and it's rare to come across an 'interesting' one, I'm not gonna have another."

"'Interesting'…ne?" She smiled coyly. "Well…I'm not that interesting…praising me like that…how embarrass—"

EH?!

"What do you mean?! '_Interesting_'?!" Her anger returned in a spark. "You find me funny, right?! _Huh?!_"

"Uh-huh, pretty amusing." A hint of mirth dashed across his amber eyes.

Orihime's face flashed in a blink from red to green, green to purple till it's darkened. Without another word, she zoomed off into her room and with a fling of her arm and wrist, the door slammed shut with a deafening BANG.

Ichigo crossed his arms and sat quietly in the sofa. He's never seen a woman with that kind of speedy changes of their expressions and thoughts clearly written on the faces. Somehow it's like looking at a personal traffic light in your own house, which's an entertaining amusement for leisure.

The constantly detached beauty revealed a barely visible smile on his ever-scowling face. It's a smile that lasted even he's in the backstage, bearing the tickles of the brushes and the jabs of different sticks.

"You're in a good mood." His agent, known since childhood, noticed the minute tip at the corners of his lips.

"My new co-habitant's…very entertaining." He closed his eyes, allowing the artist to apply mascara.

"She's yet discovered you're a man?" The agent arched a brow in mild surprise.

"It's _because_ she had, then I found her so entertaining." He raised the eyelids. After all these years, her heart still skipped a beat when looking at those orbs, clear yet sharp as ambers.

"After two weeks?" The agent snorted softly. "I'm not surprised; your fairness goes beyond a woman's."

"_If all men are as good-looking as you, then what about us women's faces and honours?!"_ A flashback of her utterly discomfited face from anger, Ichigo's smile deepened.

The artist, having never seen him smile before, stunned at the spot. It's like a frosted peony, whose smile shattered the layer of ice. That's until he's looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"How many years have you been a make-up artist?" He asked coolly. "Blue eye shadows?"

"This year's displays are almost cold-colour-themed." She replied sharply in "ALERT" mode. "So what's wrong with blue?"

"Then tell me, what're you going to do with this gold one? In that interval of 0.01 second, you're going to remove the make-up and reapply it?"

Noticing the mood, the agent immediately intervened, "The audiences won't look so clearly, Ichigo…"

"This is your attitudes towards your work?" He stood up. "Starting from tomorrow, you're not my make-up artist anymore; that's it."

"I've been in a make-up artist for over ten years, and none of the models have complained about my make-ups!" She flew into a rage out of humiliation. "You think I'm someone like your slave, calling and sending me away on your whims?!"

"Enough, Michiru." The agent stood in between them. "I'll tell the boss tomorrow, so go and help with the others—"

"Do you know _who_ am I?" The artist hit the roof. "You're only a trivial model, a cross-dressing sicko! You—"

"_Enough_, Michiru!" The agent finally snapped. After the artist's left with furious stomps, she sighed, "You know her relationship with the boss…"

"I don't give a damn to who she's ever slept with." His voice returned to its usual coolness. "My motto is, 'Loyal to your very job, no matter what.' The same goes to you, right, Taki? You've pledged yourself to your job as a gaoler, staying by my side all these years."

"I'm not a gaoler, and you're not a prisoner." Taki said peacefully, her face betrayed no emotions, but the slightest quake of her fingers revealed the truth.

"I'm not?" He ploughed his fingers through his shoulder-length orange locks. "I didn't even know that myself, but _you_ knew it the best whether I'm one or not."

After he's stepped onto the stage, Taki collapsed into the chair weakly. He knew it? When—or to put it in another way—he knew it from the beginning? She sucked and bit her lower lip, but had no intentions to make a call.

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><p>Orihime packed her belongings hastily. It's not joking; no one could live in this place with a freaking psycho! Other than being a cross-dressing sicko, who knows what other strange manias he has? Sleeping under the bridge's way better than here with <em>him<em>.

But…she clenched her teeth as she opened her bankbook.

Comparing with the unorganized Mizuiro and the out-of-luck Keigo, Orihime's been saving up her small earns from her jobs. She didn't take up side-jobs and part-times, but still a bit richer than them. It's just _if_ she's resorted to move the amount stated in that little bankbook of hers, she's always on tenterhooks. Deep breaths…everything's gonna be alright…

She poked her head out and looked around, finally stepped out of her room boldly as she spotted Ichigo's slippers still at the front door. I won't be sued…? About the deposit…the image of a stack of notes appeared in her mind and she felt a pang in her heart. She walked across the kitchen and took a glance…oh, dear God…

Two weeks of fasting on food and sleep, she's not paid much attention to the other rooms around the house. Left untouched in the sink was a mountain of dishes, which a small universe's started to form. Wonder if there'd be aliens…?

Such a beautiful kitchen…such perfect utensils…such…such humiliation ~ ! Bewitched, she strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a cleaning cloth. Oh God, I'm _not_ washing them for _him_! But…I _can't_ let these beautiful sets be humiliated!

When Ichigo returned, he almost couldn't recognize his own house.

Orihime's baggage's still here, so she's yet left. He searched the ground floor and second floor of the house, only to hear a scrubbing sound from the bathroom. Once he opened the door, he saw Orihime, hidden bitterness in those smoky marbles, scrubbing the toilet bowl with unnecessary force in large plastic gloves, "Have you _ever_ scrubbed the toilet bowl? Such a beautiful one, and you let so many filth stuck in it? A thousand apologies aren't _even_ enough…"

"Stop scrubbing. A part-time housekeeper comes weekly to do the chores." It's true; a part-time housekeeper would clean the place weekly, but it's Monday today, and the housekeeper would only come here every Tuesday. Besides, that woman's extremely lazy; vacuuming was the most she'd do. Heck, she never bothered to even wipe any of the flat surfaces. But now…it's the first time he saw that his faucet could be used as a mirror.

"The bowl seems like it hasn't been cared for _a year_!" Orihime cried furiously. "Is she a _professional_ housekeeper? This is her attitudes towards her work?"

Ichigo, originally thought of leaving with a snort, halted because of her words. "…Then, what do you say about it? Who's not slacking with such a hard and low-esteemed job?"

"Says who?!" She threw the brush in rage. "You have to put your heart into whatever you're doing! Slacking? Or else, quit! Someone's pointing guns at her? Who allows her to be a thief of salaries?"

A praise surfaced in Ichigo's eyes for a split of a second. He squatted down, "What do you say if I hire you to do the household chores? If you stay in here and keep the house in a good shape, I won't charge you any rent. Aren't you still jobless? Just save your money as much as you possibly can."

It's really a devil's tempting deal…_no rent_! All she'll do was to keep this house in cleanliness and tidiness…

"But you're a man…I can't…" Her will's starting to quaver.

"So?" He raised one of his brows from his permanent crease. "I've got no interest in the opposite sex."

He's not…gay…is he…?

"36D." He stared at Orihime's chest. "Though large breasts, but you're wearing your bra in the wrong way. Forgive me, but I've got no interest in women who couldn't even wear their bra properly." Cocking his head to a side, he shook, "It seems that they aren't as huge as they seem to be…"

"Hey!" Orihime covered her chest reflexively with a scared blush. "Where're you looking at?!" Gay…my ass!

"I'm merely providing professional comments. If I want to, you're no longer the 'you' you knew in the past two weeks." He stood up and thought of her belongings downstairs, "Life's no joking games, so you're going home?"

Orihime's heart panged again. Do I still have a place known as "home"…?

"I've got no place to return to!" Her dazed and nervous face's replaced by a sharp snap.

Ichigo stared pointedly at her. "That's good; neither do I, except this house. Go back to your room." His voice's not loud, but filled with authority that one won't dare to retort. As if hypnotized, she obediently put her belongings back into her room.

Wait…no! How come I'm staying here again?! She hugged her head, making neither heads nor tails of the situation.

Gradually, she found that there're no difference between the Ichigo before and now: still not much words, sitting in the living room and reading—is that Shakespeare's?—quietly. He wouldn't talk unless Orihime started it, and it's usually she couldn't bear the silence and initiated the conversation, then he'd reply concisely.

"…Men don't usually work in this field, do they?" Slowly, her curiosity got the better part of her.

"They don't. Most are fitting models for men's wears." He's put on reading glasses and pulled his shoulder-long hair into a short ponytail, but those never degraded his glamour. The loose shirt covered most of his curves, but the tight jeans showed two long thighs with muscles.

"Eh? So you're saying that there're still men working as models for women's wears?" Orihime's stunned.

"Of course; it's just not much." Ichigo didn't tell her that some of them are transgender, like Ayasegawa Yumichika and Charlotte Chuhlhourne, good examples of the people who's gone beyond the simple level of narcissist. Though he'd like to scare the daylights out of her, but on a second thought…better not. He treasures his hearing, thank you very much.

"…Where's the attractiveness of this job?" She couldn't imagine it.

"Do you think I have good looks?" He removed his glasses and turned to look at her, which made her blush furiously.

"Yes, yes, so good-looking that one's as red as a lobster!" Oh God, not even the ears…!

"I think so too." He dropped his head and turned over a page. "I like to display my beauty. If it's my gift from the gods, then it shouldn't be gone to waste. What other jobs like fitting models for women's wears can allow me to display my beauties to the extremes?"

Orihime's mouth dropped wide; never has she seen a narcissist like him to be so in-the-right and self-confident.

"…You can become a pop star!" She cried.

"I hate singing." He flipped a page again.

"…What about acting in front of the cameras?" Orihime couldn't believe her ears.

"I hate memorizing scripts."

"…" He's _really_ a sicko! Just for that reason? Orihime felt like fainting…

I'd better move out. The longer she stayed, the more she felt her thinking process' falling apart. But…moving out requires _money_ to do so, right? She's been finding a job for half a year, and she's began to lose hope.

Many manga publishers have begun to lay off **(5)**. Even though there weren't lay-off notices, they wouldn't fill in the vacancies. She really insisted in her manga dream, and had no intention in doing jobs that wouldn't involve drawing and painting. However, her insistency's started to weaken. Looking at her diminishing savings, her fear crept up, although Ichigo no longer required her to pay the rent.

Things couldn't go on like this. She lay face-flat on the table in McDonald's, gazing at her coffee rising streams of steam. If it's not too cold right now, she would even save the money from buying this drink. Belch! It's so disgusting that she's lost all her appetite…

"Orihime? Aren't you Hime-chan?" A surprised voice drummed her ears.

"Chizuru-senpai?" She looked around sharply to find a former colleague and good friend for two years in Karakura Top, but that's before she went to work in Rukongai.

"You're still in Rukongai?" She's thrilled to meet this friend, albeit her freaky sexual orientation.

"I'm on the lay-off list. Lucky me; my boss' given three-month worth of money for me to find the next job, otherwise you'd find me dying in the streets. I've heard you're also fired from Karakura Top but penny-less, huh? Curse that bastard Kira Izuru!" She shook her head.

"That's because…Mizuiro and Keigo took in other jobs from outside…the boss cut out our shares…" She wanted to cry once she thought of being innocently involved.

"You don't know?" Chizuru's eyes popped. "It's not like that at all! Indeed, your team's on the lay-off list, but it's the corruptive Kira who took all your shares!"

"_What?!_" Orihime yelled.

"He's also taken many others' shares! Shame on him; he got fired too after snatching a mind-blowing 60,000,000 yen! No one can find him, let alone have any idea where he's gone to…"

He even took _others'_ shares! Orihime's eyes reddened with remorse for blaming Mizuiro and Keigo.

"Humph! Leave that jerk aside; have you found a job yet?" Chizuru's been very concerned for her since they first met. After Orihime shook her head, she sighed heavily, "I've found one, but I've never imagined I'd be working in a wedding planner's."

"Designing gowns for brides?" She tested. She knew Chizuru's designs were what made her comics popular.

"A cosmetologist." She laughed lightly at the lovely face of confusion which she loved very much. "It's all the same as before. The only differences are just 'one's on the canvas, one's on a human's face' and 'one's bearing it all quietly, one's howling in pain'…"

She returned home in a daze, curled up in the sofa and thought for a long time, so long that she's forgotten to turn on the lights.

"What's going on?" It's Ichigo who turned them on. "You've cried?"

"I'm just a bit depressed…" She wiped away the tears on her cheeks. "How could he? I've always admired him, and even called him 'Shishou'! How could he do that to us…"

He patted lightly on her shoulder after listening quietly to her intermittent story.

"Don't be sad. Welcome to the Real World." He let out a long sigh, "It's been like this for a long time, this world. It's never been perfect as you've imagined. Because of the weakness in us humans, it's common for betrayals."

"Including you?" She blurted out moodily, and then realized it's not appropriate to say such.

"You and me? We've never got involved in any entanglements of advantages and benefits with each other, right? How could I then betray you?" He put on his glasses and took his unfinished _Othello_ from the coffee table. "Remember this: if you don't give a damn to anything and get associated with advantages and benefits, there'd be no room for any betrayals."

Orihime digested those words quietly, never comprehended that Ichigo's been edging closer to her with an arm around her shoulders.

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><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) The currency exchange's 1 HK dollar to 10 Japanese yen as in 2011.**

**(2) Okay, have this picture in mind: Ichigo with overall longer hair than he has after the Dangai Training; probably reaching to shoulders, as well as being not too muscular, and _try_ to imagine him to have some feminine beauty…_mind you_! Not too much!**

**(3) It's the house where in the original anime/manga the Kurosaki lives, only that this one in this story doesn't have the clinic.**

**(4) Before any new discover, it'll be a "she" for the time being.**

**(5) I know as well as you do that it's NOT the case in the real world, otherwise us fans will all go wailing at the loss of great manga…**

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><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**I know nothing about Spanish (I'll learn it after my intensive studies on Japanese.), so after searching several translation devices, I decided on this title _El Modelo de Magia_, which in English is "The Magic Model". Those who know this mysteriously bewitching language, please tell me if the title's good or wrong.**

**So, this is the first chaper! We're having our first victim with a major personality change: a kick-ass Orihime! As for Taki, her full name will be revealed in later chapters. For the time now, guess who she is!**

**What do you think about it? Please leave some comments before going onto the next chapter! I'll appreciate it! ^^**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	2. Being a Makeup Artist's not so bad…

**Hello! Thank you for following me up to here!**

**Well, don't have much say in here, so let's get onto Chapter Two!**

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><p><strong>Being a Make-up Artist's not so bad…<strong>

A cosmetologist…ne? Orihime's still thinking over Chizuru's words while tossing in bed. It might possibly be another way out. There're not many differences between this and painting, she tried to persuade herself. She's got confidence in her sense of colours.

Besides, it's _way_ better than working in convenience stores…

If that's so, then the targets must be great fairs. That's what she said to herself the next morning as she opened the newspaper and saw an advertisement from a modelling agency with a vacancy for a make-up artist.

Puffing out her chest, she finally stepped out of the boundary of the house, but got deflated in the next moment.

Were there _really_ no more? She struggled. There'd possibly be some other kinds of small jobs like further-edition of manga. Drawing simple sketches would be fine for her. Oh, even a mangaka_ assistant_ would be alright! But, were there still any mangaka that needed assistants?

"Oh, coming to respond to a recruiting ad, missy?" A weird man smiled at her. He looked quite decent, though.

"Yes." Orihime took in a deep breath. I just couldn't deal with my savings below a five-digit figure…

She walked into the company, surprised that such a glamorous profession would be in such a shabby office. A few attractive lassies glared at her, as if she's their enemy.

"What're you recruiting for? Pop star? Actress? Model?" The man looked through the file of forms. "Oh, by the way, I'm the manager, but none of the people here call me that. Call me Renji would be fine."

"Err…" Orihime cleared her throat. "I'm coming for the vacancy for make-up artists."

"Make-up artist?!" Renji scrutinized her for a while. "No way, you're such a lovely babe…trust me! My eyes tell me that you're an unearthed diamond! With some make-ups and a set of clothes, I promise you'll be a supernova in no time!"

"I don't know how to sing, as well as acting." Orihime felt ashamed and embarrassed.

"It's alright, then a model! We've got training courses for professional models, and you'll surely be a supermodel."

"Lookie here. That's what Renji told me two years ago." A belle giggled smugly. "Hey, Renji, is that what you say to every woman? What a playful tongue you've got…"

"Oh, charming babe, don't tease me." Renji waved that off. "Come, missy, just fill in this form."

"No," Orihime's determined. Was this some sick joke? A narcissist at home's more than enough, and she didn't want to be like Ichigo. "All I only want is to be a make-up artist."

"…Alright. Do you have any experiences?" Renji furrowed his brows.

"I've learnt cosmetology and hair-styling in high school…" Orihime swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

Thinking for a while, Renji's smile returned in a flash. "That's alright for being inexperienced. Knowledge's open for everyone to learn! You can be on a probation too. Unfortunately, I don't have the forms for professional make-up artists right now…this form for models would be fine…"

Just as she's started to fill in the form, the curtain's pushed aside to reveal a detached handsome face. "What're you doing, Renji?"

"I'm recruiting new blood. I've not got in your way, have I?" That clown-like smile's disappeared, and alertness took the space on his face. "I'm telling you: _she's_ the one who got in _on her own_. I've neither forced her nor lied to her…"

This familiar voice…Orihime raised her head to look into those ice-sealed ambers, noticing a hint of anger and…care?

"You're recruiting to be a model?" Ichigo glanced at the form.

"No; a make-up artist." Orihime shook her head. What's going on? Such coincidences?

"It's not the form for make-up artists." He stared at Renji coldly. "You've made a mistake, 'Manager'-san."

A flash of malevolent crossed on Renji's face, but it's immediately replaced with his smile. "Oh yes, I thought that the forms were all used…my memory's really failing me!" He looked at the unfinished form and took out another one. "Here, Inoue-san, take this one."

"She's _not_ filling anything." Ichigo ripped the forms. "She's my personal make-up artist."

"What're you pulling around at, Kurosaki Ichigo?!" Renji's face's now distorted by cruelty and horror. "Me taking in new recruits _on my own_, you being a supermodel _on your own_! I've never wronged you, so what're you trying at?!"

"Nothing." He's still the old calm and detached self. "She's living under the same roof with me. Her everything is my responsibility."

All those present gasped. In an instant, one could hear a pin drop.

"Come." He grabbed Orihime's arm and forcibly dragged her away from the spot.

"Eh? H-Hey! What's wrong…" Orihime's utterly confused. "How can you do that? I need a job…_hey_! You're hurting me, Ichigo!"

Looking at the two retreating figures, Renji's face sank to deeper darkness. With a loud bang, he's shaken everything on the table, making them jump a feet high from the surface. The other girls fell into a thickening silence, like bunnies in a hiding bush with the howling wolf out there. None dared to make a sound.

"Enough with all the stupidity!" Finally, Orihime struggled to free herself—or it should be Ichigo willingly freed her. "What the heck you're playing at? Why do you drag me here? I need to work! Even though I no longer have to pay for the rent—"

"Why do you have to find a job in a modelling agency? How many have you been to such companies?" Ichigo then became aware of his very abnormal behaviour, but he's not willing to admit that emotion was fear. Spotting her distorted face, agitated, he grabbed her arm again. "Say it!"

"This is the first." Orihime, scared by him, muttered after a while. Looking at his stern yet worried look in his eyes, she then understand that Renji's not someone kind and nice. "…Can you release me? It…it hurts…"

He finally loosen his hand on her arm and took a deep breath. I'm worrying about her? Oh, darn you, calm down. It's not like that. It's just she's a…never mind that.

"Modelling agencies aren't some nice places for proper jobs." His face's still dark. "It's so hard to find a job?"

"I want a job that's related to drawing." She nodded and bit her lip. "A make-up artist…isn't too different, I hope…"

He's then relaxed. "I really wish to hire you as my make-up artist, but I'm not offering you this post out of sympathy. Therefore, you've got to go through tests."

"What kind of tests?" Orihime followed behind him.

"You don't have to care about that." Ichigo turned around. "But you have to promise me: if you fail, you must never step into any other modelling agencies. Can you do that?"

Orihime looked at him in total confusion. However, she felt that Ichigo's worried for her from his expressionless face. Though she don't know why, "I promise."

"…Follow me." They came to the backstage of the practical runway and he opened the provisional wardrobe. "These are the clothes I'm fitting into for tomorrow's show. As you see, most of them are red. So, what's your make-up for me?"

Opening the professional chest of make-ups, Orihime choppily took a piece of facial cotton and gulped.

"You've learnt cosmetology and hair-styling?" Ichigo closed his eyes.

"Uh-huh." Orihime cleaned his face carefully with a dampened cotton. "My family thought that girls will have better futures if they learn that."

"What after that?"

"Well…" It's pointless to use concealer on such a flawless face. After a second of consideration, she picked up a puff with face powder. "I wanted to draw, so I transferred to study in Renaissance Art."

"Did your family support you?" The long lashes casted a luscious shadow on his face with peachy skin.

"How could they? I've got to earn money from my work for my school fees and daily necessities." She made a short laugh of bitterness. For the sake of drawing, she's chased out of the apartment by her drunkard of a father. Her prostitute mother only cowered in a corner, smoking cigarette after cigarette. Sora, her beloved elder brother, has died years ago, so no one stood up for her, let alone to shield her from gaining scars.

"Heavy, aren't they, dreams?" He cracked open his eyes, reflecting Orihime's face with those polished ambers. "Won't you be free once you give up on your dreams?"

"What's the point in living once giving up on your dreams?" Orihime gulped hardly to get rid of the lump in her throat. "Close your eyes."

"Well said." He reclosed them but curved up the corners of his mouths. "Don't forget what you've said today."

Silence fell between them, and Orihime's concentration perked up, ignoring all the noises around her. Applying make-up for Ichigo was a very enjoyable experience. Such a perfect material began to radiate glories of beauty under her working hands. It's better than her portrait done weeks ago; there're no other canvases that were better than this. It's the masterpiece of God.

"Gold eye shadows? Due to the trend?" He looked at his face in the mirror. "Most of the clothes are red."

"But a lot of them have gold accessories to go with them." She explained. "I've used brick-red to shade around the eyes, then it's the gold eye shadow. Such colours should be used to bring out your eyes, and considering for the splendour of the clothes, gold is the best colour." The words she didn't say were, "Those brilliant ambers you've got as your eyes are the best ornaments for the clothes. The colour of gold is only the foil for those eyes of jewels."

He finally smiled, "It's too thin." Seeing her going to protest, he explained, "This is a stage. I need a heavier fashion make-up when I'm on the runway."

Orihime's a little disappointed. So…she failed? However, she didn't feel sad, but satisfied for doing it even once.

"You pass." He closed his eyes. "Remove them."

"I don't need your sympathy or other pathetic reasons for me to get a pass!" Orihime poured out some make-up remover resentfully. "I promised that I won't step into any other modelling agencies, but I don't—"

"I'm not sympathizing you. Besides, why should I?" He remained his eyes closed. "You've got a good sense of colours and acute strokes. As for fashion make-ups, all you need is practices, and you've got a week. That's it; end of discussion."

"…" She sulkily removed all the work she's done.

"Remember; a week." Ichigo called a cab and even paid the necessary fees for her. "You should understand that I've viewed my job as part of my belief. After a week, I need nobody other than you to apply make-up for me. If you ruin my shows, I'll never forgive you. Do you understand? Now go back, and never find another modelling agency on your own. From now on, you'll follow me to wherever I go. Got that?" Orihime didn't know why, but all she knew was she's nodding.

"What a shame. She's a jewel." Taki smiled behind him as the vehicle's out of sight. "She should be on the runway."

"The runway? No model gets on the runway with just barely 5'3"." Not a single warmth lingered in his eyes. "Or maybe force her to do it a few times before tempting her to be a courtesan?"

"You've never cared about any of Renji's girls." Taki bowed her head to lit a cigarette. "She's so important to you?"

"Who don't care for his 'pets'?" He looked at Taki coolly. "Even though I want them no more, none can touch any of the toys I've played with, including you, Taki. I'll never let anyone get away with it." Although he's got such an attractive smile, the dark murderous aura which's rolling out from him could turn the hot summer days into chilling wintery ones.

"I know that. I've always known that." Taki forced herself to self-control.

"I hope so." After scrutinizing her face for a while, he turned around to leave.

"After all, you're a prince with a sword, not a princess." Taki held back her trembles.

He looked up into the sky before looking back at her, "…I was never a prince. I'm only 'El Modelo de Magia'."

Both of them knew what he meant, and he silently left. As he did so, Taki said softly, "She'll become your greatest weakness. Do you know that?"

Why he didn't?

He arrived at home and saw Orihime applying make-up on a mannequin intently, but he only leant against the wall quietly, savouring her concentration. Ichigo knew that she wouldn't feel a thing if he stabbed her a few times now. Was it this absorption into her work that moved him? He didn't know. All he knew was that his gaze's filled with content, so as pain. He walked into the room, trying not to think about that.

"Move faster," Orihime's movements were more stable, as Ichigo's taught her. "The shows aren't waiting for you."

"I don't want to do things hastily." Orihime frowned, flipping through the fashion magazines for ideas.

"That's why you need to reduce unneeded strokes. With the right strength, you'll get rid of them." The next show's a few days away. He treasured the coming autumnal publication show and didn't want to fail it. "Why don't you try on me?"

"Fashion make-ups hurt the skin very much. I don't want to destroy your face." Orihime glanced at his flawless face.

Is that so? He sensed an abnormal softness in his heart, sat on the bed and closed his eyes. "That little bit of make-up won't be such a great deal on me. Come."

Why she always couldn't resist his orders, albeit it's such a gentle tone? Yet, she still walked towards him obediently.

"You haven't been caring your skin." She frowned as she started to remember the cosmetology lessons in the past. "You've been staying up late? It's not very obvious, but from the touches…"

"Who'll touch my face other than you?" Surprised by the intimate tone, he shut up immediately.

Luckily, Orihime didn't notice that. She bit her lower lip, "Can I ask…why did you fire your previous make-up artist? Was it because she ruined your show?" Ichigo might have liked her for them to live together.

"No," He said plainly. "Senna attempted to get into my bed."

"…I won't." Orihime's face's tomato-red.

"I know." It's so easily said. He had no idea that she needed a lot of self-control to not suck those full, soft lips…until she felt the studs on his chin.

"Your studs," She narrowed her eyes and held her head. It's _way_ unnatural for such a beautiful face to have _studs_!

"I'll do something about that."

On the day of the show, Ichigo brought a keyed-up red panda along with him.

"You're scared?" Ichigo's put on a pair of dark glasses.

"…I'm afraid you won't forgive me." She nodded.

"It's your birthday today, right?" Ichigo smiled. Eh? How did he—? "You have three wishes as your birthday gift from me, and you can make this wish, 'Ichigo won't fire me even if I ruin the show.'"

"I won't." Orihime stared at him, all her anxiety gone in a second.

"Such confidence…very well, then. If you ruin it, no salary for two years." Ichigo smirked.

"What?! _Two years_?! Are you a human?! That's going seriously against the law!"

"Make another noise and that's three."

"_HEY!_"

It's the first time she'd stepped into the backstage of an ongoing fashion show. The entire backstage was engulfed by luxurious clothes, rainbow cosmetics and perfumes, with the dusty foundation powders forming a hallucinatory sweet mist. Eyes were dazzled by the shimmering jewelleries. This was the world of models.

"Only you have your own make-up artist." Orihime's embarrassed. "Many are sharing one."

"That's because I'm a supermodel." He closed his eyes. "Get started; you're the chief make-up artist now."

She took in a deep breath, glanced rapidly at all the clothes he'll be fitting in and started to work intently on the make-up. Gone were the sweet mists, the gorgeous clothes and everything, except Ichigo's face and her hands. The place's gasps-filled as it's done. Fitted in the costume, Ichigo's gorgeous as a sovereign queen, descended among the everyman.

"Not bad," She's never imagined that Renji would be here as well. "You've got really crafty hands, Inoue-san."

Orihime remembered Ichigo's instructions and gave him a small smile before moving aside.

It's not she _had to_ move aside; she _must_. Once they reached to the backstage, the models, formerly on the runway elegantly, threw themselves onto their next set of clothes. Who cared how to spell "bashfulness"? Who cared there're _men_ in there? All they cared were stripping clothes, putting on the next and dashing to their positions with heeled shoes of 3". When their turn came, all of them were walking normally without a rigged breath, elegant as ever.

On the other side, Orihime's been very anxious. She knew her sense of colours was great, but could the make-up fit to all the clothes? None would know the results until the clothes were worn. She relaxed for a moment as she waited, shivering, for Ichigo to get properly changed. When he entered to get changed again, she's all tensed up again. Cold-colour themed clothes versus a cold metallic make-up; she's done well. She released a held breath…

"Damn it! Now that you've sprung your ankle, who's fitting in this set?!" It's one of Renji's models. She's twisted her ankle, now beginning to swell, as she rushed in with a loud crash.

"I never asked for it!" The model—Orihime recalled her name to be Ryo—yelled with teary eyes from the pain. "It's the last but the best part of the show. I can still walk—"

"Shut it! How can you walk with that ankle?!" Taki took control over the ruckus. "As for this set…Ichigo! You're about the same height as Ryo, take it!"

"My make-up's too awkward with it…Orihime! Hurry! I'll be next in three minutes!" Ichigo took a brief glance at the fiery-red long gown with a lotus-leaf collar and began to strip.

She's taken aback. It's near impossible to wipe the current make-up off and reapply it all over!

"Hurry! Don't just freeze in there!" He roared as he started to get fitting into the gown.

Orihime rampaged through the disks of make-ups. There's no time to care so many things, so she jabbed her fingers into a lipstick of the same fiery red.

"What're you doing?" Taki's startled by her. "That's lipstick!"

She didn't reply, stained Ichigo's eyelids with it and brushed it equally with her gentle fingers. Without wiping the stain off her trembling hands, she removed the paint on his lips with a make-up wipe and applied a soft layer of lip gloss.

"You look wonderful. Now go." He stepped out and raised another round of gasps and applauses. It's then Orihime sat down weakly, quivering. It's the first after years for her to be a nervous wreck.

"Here, to clean your hands." Taki passed a box of tissue paper to her. Her nervousness' taken away her voice, leaving her with only trembles. "You've done a great job."

Orihime smiled feebly, hugging her knees to her chest and wondering why she's still shivering. After a long period, someone embraced her from behind, making her let out a surprised yelp.

"It's me." Strangely, Ichigo's voice could always tranquilize her. "You've done great. The show's over…the pressure's over…the strain's all over…"

"…Thank you." Orihime felt her eyes glazed with hotness and held it back. "I'll remove the make-up for you."

The area's nearly empty. Under the lights, the bright eye shadow and the fiery red gown brought out Ichigo's peachy skin. With the make-up remover in hand, Orihime's stunned again, unwilling to erase the perfect art done by her hands.

"…Can I…have a look?" She asked quietly, awed that he'd comply and open his eyes. The long lashes fluttered like a fan of fluffy feathers. Those heart-thumping eyes were more like liquefied chocolate than the usual sparkling ambers—a trait that she's noticed accidentally when he's not among a group of strangers or at work.

"…I'm tired. Taki, help me to adjust the back lower." He called softly. "Wait for a while, Orihime. Let me rest a little."

A savour of oddness surfaced in Orihime's heart. Spellbound, she stared at this mysteriously gorgeous man. That set of red has left a abyssal shadow in her mind, never to get disappeared…maybe.

"You seem to be obsessed with beautiful things." Eyes closed, Ichigo said softly.

"…Yeah, I have no resistance against beauties." Orihime's wrapped in his jacket, at the brink of falling asleep.

"Then we'll get along very well—at work, I mean." Orihime made no reply, for she's started to doze off on the way home. To prevent her from bumping her head at the window, Ichigo hugged her gently. Despite his calm exterior, he's having an interior battle with a beast he's suppressed for years.

It's not right in this way. Ichigo looked out of the dusky window in the car, finding it as he's leading Orihime into the wilderness with lurking beasty monsters. This pure belle, blindfolded and oblivious to the traps of quicksand and swamps by her feet. Would it be better to let her go and leave? But what's the point in letting go of her? What's her safety to me?

These thoughts triggered him to be fidgety. As he fidgeted, however, bitter botheration and sweet anxiety cross-fired and created huge explosions in his chest. All these years, he's been alone, staying by himself. Before Orihime's appearance, he looked coldly upon the graces and ugliness of this prosperous world, the faces of angels and demons. A trip to Hell for who? None of his damn business. Oddly, Orihime's awakened his halted heart. He then realized that he's having a beating heart and warmth, just like hugging her now. It's especially sweet to have such joyful senses, but also especially agonizing.

* * *

><p>Orihime's getting used to such a life. Yes, she's still walking the path of drawing, only that she's not holding paint brushes but eyebrow pencils. Amongst the bustling days with fashion shows, she stayed closely with Ichigo, going from place to place. The initial fear for Renji, now being kind and nice to her, has also gone gradually as they got along at work. The demonic wrath that day has become nothing more than a dream, slowly vanishing into her blurred memories.<p>

"Say, Ichigo," One day, Renji fawned on him with a too-sugary grin. "Can I borrow Orihime for a moment? Michiru's fully occupied, and another artist's on leave today…"

"You should ask Orihime first. If she's willing to help, then yes, only that she must be within the range of my sight." His cold eyes scrutinized Renji, sending chills down his spine. Ichigo's been ready with his make-up and the dress. The velvet gown heightened his mystery and highness.

"Please, Orihime…" Renji clasped his hands together. If only he'd whine… "We're really short-handed ~ "

And so, she stepped to the other side with slight fear. Her concentration to her work was comparable to none, and the models were very pleased with the results.

"Would you like to work here, Orihime?" Renji half-joked. "Your salary will be thrice the amount Ichigo's giving you."

_Thrice_? That's an extremely tempting number. Yet, was there anyone who could ease her disturbance in this noisy and flourishing world? Even though there're strong lights, she saw a horrible shadow in his brown eyes. The same colour of brown, but it's not the clear and cold amber gaze Ichigo has—it's talking of a trap with muddy swamps. That's what frightened her the most about Renji.

"I prefer to stay by Ichigo." She mumbled, hugging the make-up chest tightly.

"Hey, not so fast. Here's the price for your help." Renji puller her back and took out a thick stack of paper notes, deliberately ignoring the sizzling electric sparks in Ichigo's eyes as he looked at their direction. Seeing her congealed form, he took her hand and place the money in her palm with a smile. Before he walked pass her, he whispered at her ear, "It's only one over some millions—if you're working with me."

She yanked her hand back and ran hastily back to the safety waters by Ichigo's side. The stack in her hands emitted a sense of security, so as horror.

"What should I do with it?" She showed it to Ichigo.

"What to do? Just put it into your bank account." He stood up, accepting Renji's challenge to a staring contest. Sparks spew out as their gazes clashed. He took a note and said, "Just keep this in mind: money can let you buy a lot of things, but it's not everything. This is only a paper for the purpose of bargaining trades. Don't let it sit on your shoulders."

_"Don't let it sit on your shoulders."_ These magical words were what led her safely through this world.

The salary of a model wasn't as much as she's imagined. Even with an in-the-light supermodel like Ichigo, they led a simple life without much luxuries. On the other hand, many second-string models owned Ferrari or Lamborghini, bought the clothes—with the worth of seven-digits or even eight-digits—they've displayed, wore dazzling jewelleries and indulged themselves in lavish sumptuousness. It shouldn't be the money earned from their job as models, and Orihime tried not to think what kind of part-time jobs they ran.

"You think it's prostitution?" Renji said by her ears as Ichigo's walking on the runway. "It's not that. Those models are the blooming roses in functions, weaving through the high-classes. All they have to do is to wear the clothes, have a nice make-up and swirl a cup of wine in their fingers, then the amount they earn will be folds of your monthly earnings. You don't have to reject me so quickly; give it a thought…" Meeting Ichigo's cold eyes, he shut up and walked away.

"The illiterate are far better than literate scum." He changed quickly, glanced at Orihime worriedly and was back on the runway again. That worried look pulled Orihime back from temptations.

"I've got a friend working in a hotel," She spoke before Renji did. "She's originally an accountant with 200,000 yen as salary. Then came a situation of short-handedness, so she helped to serve; her salary doubled. After that, she simply became a MMS **(1)**, and the money's thrice in return. It soared again as she carried drinks to rooms and sat down among customers bashfully for the first time. She's now so accustomed to expenses that it's impossible for her to get rid of this life." She smiled as she remembered Mahana's poor state when they last met and ended with the promise she's made, "I won't tread on the same path as hers."

"…My doors are always open to you, you know." Renji looked at her plainly.

She nodded, dropped her head to draw lines with an eyebrow pencil and painted quietly with an eye shadow brush and nearly-used-up eye shadow powder and rouge. It's not long before a disk-size Ichigo's smiling at her mystically.

It's only drawing intently that let her be able to resist the devil's temptations.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) Short-form for Ma-Ma-San, Japanese for the leader of a group of girls in clubs, if you don't know it.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**And so, we're getting to know more about the background history of the two! More are on their way! The story's just getting started!**

**By the way, how's it? Please tell me what you think about it!**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	3. I Have No Idea You Own Such a Past

**Now that we've got to know a little more about the background history of the two main characters, but here in this chapter, the spotlight's on our mysterious supermodel! Let's see what happens!**

**WARNING: Slight and one-sided IchiRuki, but I promise that it won't last for long - it's after all a IchiHime story!**

* * *

><p><strong>I Have No Idea You Own Such a "Past".<strong>

Ichigo woke up from the house-filled fragrance of food. He blinked, yawned and stretched like a cat. After having shows after shows for nearly a month, even sleeping's a kind of enjoyment. He walked down the stairs to discover Orihime cooking in the kitchen.

"Do you know you're very admirable, Ichigo? You've been sleeping for _a day straight_! So, have you resigned to the Sun?" She half-joked, dancing in the kitchen with the cooking utensils as batons for tricks.

"I'm afraid I'll starve to death in the bed if I don't get up." He looked around the clean and shiny kitchen. "Now you have a job, how about hiring another part-time housekeeper?"

"No." She answered crisply. "I love doing housework."

"Alright," Ichigo said lazily and found something on the table. "Mm…salt-grilled Pacific saury? Oh, cooked rice too!" He took the fish with his hands directly and munched. "H-Hot ~ ! Yah…everything's honey-sweet when you're hungry…"

"Hey!" Orihime kicked his shin. My saury! "A ghost died of hunger? None can defile my salt-grilled sauries! Don't models go on diets? I've only cooked one! Give it back! _Hey!_ Who's told you to eat rice by grabbing them with your hands?! Oh, God ~ ! You're a freaking _supermodel_! What of your image?!"

"Diets? I do workouts." He's still gnawing the oily saury with his hands after being shooed out of the kitchen by Orihime. His image? Not a damn to it. "Are there any vegetables? It's pretty unhealthily oily to eat sauries only, you know."

"_Excuse me?!_" She cried, aching to dump the bowl of steamy rice in her hands onto his head. "There's no vegetables in your fridge! If you don't mind cucumbers or green peas…"

"Ma…there's no use in disliking anything now." He filled another bowl of rice. "Just bring in anything. If only there's miso soup…"

"You want me to squeeze out marrow soup from your skull?" Orihime said through grinding teeth.

A refreshing day-long sleep, a satisfying lunch with delicious food, accompanied with a quick-tempered belle as his cohabitant…it's very rare for Ichigo to be so carefree.

"You can be a bride and compete for the Number One Housewife of Japan, Orihime. Most women nowadays don't even know how to cook rice." He burped, rubbing a satisfied full belly. "Or should I say that you can't even find a boyfriend for yourself when living with a sicko like me?"

"You seem to have an inclination to recall people's unpleasant memories," Orihime puffed out her cheeks. "_You_'ll be the one who'll never get a wife yourself, you idiot who couldn't even cook rice! It's the first time I saw bugs in the grains **(1)**!"

"…I've decided!" He clapped his hands. "I'll make you unmarried for your whole life! With that, I can always eat the meals you cook…_hey_! Do you know chopsticks are also assassination tools? You nearly jabbed the acupuncture at my temple!"

"You should be thankful that I'm not making concoctions with your meal." Orihime replied icily. "One thing you should know is that I have a tendency to put strange ingredients in food when you're not aware of—come back, you jerk! Don't you feel ashamed of eating someone's lunch? Get your lazy ass here and dry the dishes for me!"

"I'm your boss!" Setting his usual scowl with his brows, Ichigo grumbled as he put on an apron decorated with a lot of strawberries. "Why should I help to clean up?"

"I'm your _make-up artist_, not _cook_!" Orihime showed her tongue at him and laughed as she saw his apron. "Oh my word, you look so _cute_! Strawberries really suit you for your namesake!" She supported her shaking laughing form by the counter, neglecting Ichigo's murderous stare.

Out of the blue, the doorbell rang like a clap of thunder in a clear sky. They looked at each other; it's so rare for them to have visitors that Orihime's long forgotten that it could emit sounds.

"Who's it?" She walked to the door as she wiped her hands.

"No. I'll go." In only a second, Ichigo's body's tensed up. The relaxed and lively face he had just now was blazing with alert, making him seemed to be surrounded by tongues of flame. He approached the door cautiously, checked if he's got any defensive weapons with him, took a breath and opened the door. A flash of black and white was hurled right into Ichigo's chest.

"Ichigo!" Raising her head, the petite damsel—reaching only to his arms—smiled with happy tears glazing those amethysts of deep purple. "I've missed you ~ !"

"R-Rukia?" He's stunned instead, so was Orihime by this surprising guest.

As she spotted Orihime, Rukia's gleaming smile's replaced with coldness along with her tone, "Who's she, Ichigo?"

"My make-up artist, who lives with me in here." Ichigo calmed down after the initial shock. "Why're you here? Does Byakuya know it?"

"Nii-sama allowed it," She's yet let down of her vigilant measuring gaze on Orihime and spoke in French, "I hate her. Call her off! I want to live with you!"

"You can speak Japanese, can't you?" Ichigo said mildly, yet full of authority that allowed no one to retort. "When you're in my country, you should speak Japanese. Besides, you can't live with me. If you want to, then ask Orihime whether she lets you stay in her room. Otherwise, I'll stay in the living room and you can have mine."

"Why is it not _her_?!" Rukia changed to speak in perfect Japanese with genuine Tokyo ascent **(2)**. "I'm the guest here!"

"You're _my_ guest, not _Orihime's_." Ichigo kept his tone moderate, but lowered his lashes to conceal his true feelings.

"No! I don't want that!" Rukia pled with whines. "Can't I sleep with you? When we're small…"

"We've never slept together since you're ten." He said. "Don't be unreasonable, Rukia. I was happy to see you, but now you're being an annoying nuisance."

Rukia looked at him for a while with passionate agony; it's a look that would melt the iciest hearts. It's blasphemous to go against any requests from this spirited belle. Finally, she gave in, "Alright, you won. I'll tell them to get my luggage."

When Ichigo introduced them to each other, Rukia called it a handshake by merely touching Orihime's fingers. Even the blind could see her hostility.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo said to Orihime when Rukia's out of earshot. "She'll be leaving after a few days."

"Why are you apologizing when _you_'re the master of this place?" Orihime asked with difficulty, "But…who's…"

Ichigo thought for a while, "Her family sheltered me when I was studying abroad in France. She's the proud sister of her elder brother Byakuya, who's been taking care of her since their parents' death, so she's a bit arrogant. Hope you can bear with her."

Ichigo's studied abroad? She gazed at him in awe. After living together for so long—did four months count as long?—she found that she still didn't quite understand…no, she _knew nothing_ about his past, his background, _everything_. But then, why should she know? Her face flushed for a bit. One thing's sure, and that's she really disliked Rukia, especially wanting to give her a smart cuff when she jumped into Ichigo's chest.

What's wrong with me? To neglect having such bloody thoughts and messed-up feelings, she tried her best to avoid meeting Rukia and stayed in her room most of the time.

What frustrated her the most was that Rukia's got some awful habits and toppled the spotless-clean house upside down. She's had enough of it, so when she stuck to Ichigo and they went out together, Orihime began to tidy up wordlessly. Unfortunately, when she's scrubbing the kitchen sink, Rukia returned by herself with a crash on the door.

"Where's Ichigo?" Beauties by the same token, Orihime's hands twitched to smack her; that high-and-mighty tone's really unbearable.

"He's yet home." Was the plain reply, and Orihime continued to clean.

"Hey," Rukia flopped herself onto the soft into a lazy lump. "I'm hungry, so make me a sandwich. Ah, remember that I hate pickled cucumbers, so don't put them in. Do you hear me?"

"I'm not hungry, so I don't want to make anything." She washed the spoons till they're shiny.

"What's with that attitude?! You're only a _servant_!" Rukia yelled agitatedly. "I'm telling Ichigo to fire you!"

"I'm not Ichigo's servant but his make-up artist." Except the whitening knuckles that showed her emotions, Orihime's face betrayed nothing. "If Ichigo fires me because of you, I won't say a thing against him. But," She placed the spoons into the drawer. "That's until he talks to me directly. You just don't have that qualification."

Before Orihime's mind could register a thing, Rukia's gone and the spoons were in the air. In the next second, she felt a scorch at her neck.

"Tsk, tsk…so you're an 'outsider'? What's it again? A commoner, a plebeian or a pariah? Well, it's all the same…for _you_." She put a bit force in her hand. Although Orihime couldn't see it, she sensed a sharp cold draught coursing through her veins from her neck. She's…holding a knife at her?

"…I don't understand." Orihime gulped carefully.

"Ichigo's never told you? Who do you think Ichigo is?"

"Ichigo is _Ichigo_. As long as it's him, then it's alright; I don't care about his past." Orihime held her head high stubbornly despite her fear.

"Why get yourself into such troubles?" Rukia hit Orihime's cheek with the flat side of the chilly blade, eyes filled with disdain. "A commoner should just live on with your petty days. We, the Triads, are never interested in you to begin with. Does this make senses to you now? Stop sticking around Ichigo; he's not the one you commoners could reach, no matter what."

"What's 'the Triads'?" Orihime felt goose bumps all over her.

"I've forgotten that's for the Chinese—so damn troublesome, these Asian languages! For you, it should be 'Kokudou' **(3)**. Just who do you think Ichigo really is?" Sparks of craze were stricken from her eyes. "He's the honourable Prince of the Dark Path, the man I'm destined to marry to."

The scene of that day's still vivid in her heart, like it's just yesterday. It's a day of drizzles when an eight-year-old Rukia first met the twelve Ichigo, just arrived at France. Rooted to the ground, she watched as that eminent, handsome Asian boy walked into the mansion with elegance through the rain. Those luminous eyes were flashing ambers among the dark obsidians, so as those bright orange locks, bringing in light in that cloudy cool-gray day.

He must be a Prince. There's no one in the world fairer than him, be them men or women.

"Bon soir, Mademoiselle. I'm Ichigo Kurosaki **(4)**." His clear voice struck an echo in her heart. "Are you Rukia Kuchiki **(5)**?"

From that day onwards, Rukia's sworn to marry to her Asian Prince in the future. Nothing would stand in her way, for any obstruction would only be utterly eliminated. However, as she looked at this outside "plebeian" neither wailing for forgiveness nor being agitated, but glaring at her with cold misty-glass eyes and a white china-doll's face.

Rukia's in a fret. She envied this Eastern woman. She envied her baby-pink soft skin, her delicate proportional torso and that fall of evening-orange silky locks. The appearances of Eastern women never age, but Rukia's now terrified for her future beauty. The Eastern woman could have her looks remained as a child with an eternal baby-soft skin and that china-doll's face. This one before her eyes was especially delicate, able to captivate any men.

She could never allow Ichigo to fall for her! She raised the knife and aimed to slash that dolly face…

Everything seemed too fast for Orihime. She didn't even have to time to defend for herself…

A bolt of whiteness and the cold blade's flung to the opposite with a thud. Before Rukia could respond, she's already sent flying to crash into the couch in the living room and landed into an unceremonious heap on the floor. Orihime then realized that she's leaning against Ichigo's chest.

"…Orihime." It's the first time she heard the trembling weakness in his voice and she finally cried. Her legs became jelly and threatened to fall down, but she clutched onto him, balling his clothes into her tight fists. After all, having a knife at the neck and nearly being disfigured wasn't a pleasant experience which everyone would like to have.

Ichigo's trembling too with another reason. It's initially fear, then it's mixed with bubbling rage as he felt the blood on Orihime's neck.

"Go back to France, Rukia." His voice's dropped to the arctic chills. "Never appear before me again."

"You're expelling me out for a _servant_?!" Rukia widened her eyes in disbelief. "I'm only joking with her!"

"Shut up." It's a low and soft voice, but full of potent dangers. "You're hurting my person in my place! Even though I've left 'the Path', I never allowed anyone to bare weapons in my territory. This is my last warning: get lost now, Rukia. You won't make it when I turn around."

"_Your person?!_" Every single droplet of blood's drained from Rukia's face and she shrilled. "_I_'m _your_ person! Your _destined wife_! If you don't marry me, I'll tell Nii-sama and eliminate the Kurosaki House! Do you hear me, you swarm of mere cowering pests under the wings of my family?!"

"I'll explain it to Byakuya myself." His back's still facing Rukia, with a shivering Orihime sobbing in his embrace. "As for the Kurosaki House…you've forgotten that I've long broken away from it. All the things in the Kurosaki House and the Path are none of my business now. Yet for the person under my protection…" His fury raised yet higher as his fingers tightened around Orihime's arms and his face darkened. Gritting his teeth, he sat Orihime down by the dining desk.

"I've warned you!" The words were still ringing in Rukia's ears when he's right in front of her.

Rukia tried her greatest attempts to defend herself from the nonstop attacks. She's the Champion in the European Taekwondo Tournament, so she's confident in her skills, and being petite had an advantage. She really had no idea that the Ichigo she loved has paid efforts in many folds—nearly over a hundred, as he's assaulted by commanded strange men everyday when he's just a kid of five **(6)**. Even though he's left for the Light, he's never rested and let his talents go rusty. After a few blows, Rukia could take it no more and was defeated with her hands locked behind her in a painful twist.

"_Lex talionis_; you reap what you sowed." A pound on the coffee table and jumped into Ichigo's palm was a peeling knife, which he well-executively used to make the same shallow cut on Rukia's neck as on Orihime's.

"No, Ichigo!" Orihime's cry's shunned.

"Shut up." Staring at her hands with the blood from her neck in shock, Rukia asked Ichigo in French with teary eyes, "How could you hurt me, Issac **(7)**?"

That dainty and tender form evoked ripples, making a memory fragment of the days in France surface in Ichigo's mind. He saw a petite girl with dusky black hair, always calling in a tender voice, "You're my prince, Issac."

"I'm no longer a prince of anyone." He said pensively. "I'm only a commoner since the day I left the Kurosaki House determinedly. If you love to command and disdain the commoners this much you should marry to Aizen Sousuke. He's got more power than I or the Kurosaki House have. You'll lead a happy life with him."

"I want no one other than you." Rukia surrendered her pride and begged. "What if…I become a commoner too?"

"Then try to influence me?" Ichigo smiled shallowly. "Leave; I won't haggle over it. However, if I spot any wounds on the ones I care…" His smile turned into a gruesome one. "You don't have to courage to try it, do you?"

Rukia stood up miserably and threw herself into his embrace.

"It's a very precarious move. I could stab you out of defence." Many years ago, Ichigo's also hugged an angelic Rukia in his arms under the blooming Sakura trees out of his yearning for his mother. The scents from her little body lingered in his nostrils, even now. He couldn't bring himself to hurt Rukia. But for Orihime's sake, he could even slay perhaps anyone who showed their fangs…including his father; he had no tolerance for anyone who hurt Orihime. However, Ichigo couldn't dare to think why.

"I know, my love. I know." She lifted her wretched face. "Please let me be spoiled for a while, Issac. How I wish we could stay as innocent children forever, never to grow up!"

…You're still a naïve child, Rukia. The fact that I had no childhood and was never a child…you'll never know. Ichigo thought to himself as he applied bandage on the wound for an over-frightened Orihime.

"Does it hurt?" He caught the sharp gasp from Orihime.

"…A little." A thousand words flooded Orihime's throat, but she didn't know where to start. "Why did Rukia…?"

"Don't ask. Please, I ask of you, don't ask…" He lay his hand on Orihime's lips. Under the remnant rays of the setting sun, his beautiful face became more sorrowfully. He's been trying to leave that summer day sixteen years ago behind…

_Issac…_

_Don't, Ichigo!_

_You caused this…_

_Issac…My Issac…_

_Ichigo…_

Those haunting painful voices pierced through his hazy memories, echoing in his heart again and again. He bit his lip till he tasted blood, trying not to scream at the splitting headache…

"Ichigo? Ichigo!" He snapped back to reality and saw the worry and care in Orihime's eyes. How they resembled those in the fragments… "Why're you crying? I…I promise I won't ask anymore…"

Clear tears trickled down the glacial-beauty face. A moment ago, this man's as savage and agile as a sprinting cheetah, and now he's a confused lost child in suffering, which Orihime could feel all the same. She stroke his cheeks gently to wipe the trails off with her body moving on its own accord. Absentmindedly, she leant forward to plant her lips on his rosy soft ones and she felt doom crashing down on him as she realized her actions. She remembered the fate of the fired make-up artist before her. Am I walking down the same path as she had? As she thought of leaving Ichigo…Ichigo facing her with disdain and loathe…her heart fell into an icy chamber.

"Don't leave me alone." He balled his fists with a handful of her shirt instead. She's never seen him begging, and utterly surprised as he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "A moment is all I ask of you…I beg of you…I-I promise! I've been abandoned…I'm not returning ever again. I won't let you get hurt anymore…don't leave me alone…please…"

Orihime held her breath. She knew these were the words for neither Rukia nor her. Such heartrending distress was not something she or Rukia could own. Oh, her fluttering heart…she's been building up a wall to avoid such emotions from tainting her. Like a frozen brook under the Spring sun, it thawed, bringing all her persistence away, far beyond her reach…

"…Okay, I promise." She returned his hug. "I won't leave you…I'll stay…"

* * *

><p>As for that day's happenings, neither has spoken a thing about it, but certainly felt a tiny chemical activity between them. Both were embarrassed and bashful by this subtle feeling. Ichigo's reverted back to the quiet bookworm, indulging himself in the dramatic world Shakespeare's created. Not knowing how to deal with this strange emotion, Orihime did the household chores to distract herself.<p>

"Come on, now," Ichigo pushed his glasses to the top of his head, stopped Orihime in her coffee-table-wiping and stared at her straight. "You can use the table as a mirror; stop burying yourself in cleaning and have some rest."

"I…I like doing it." She sat down as told.

"Even though you don't have to pay the rent, you don't need to clean so frequently." His ambers sparkled. "You're already my…m-my personal make-up artist."

She smiled, not knowing why she sensed a kind of joy rising from her heart.

"Frankly speaking, I've dreamt to have my own house for a long time. All these years, I've been saving up money for this dream." She looked around at the freshly cleaned environment with satisfaction. Compared with the cramped and smelly apartment she used to live in, her face flushed with happiness. "I want to keep my house in a good shape and open the fridge for food to cook freely. I know this isn't my own home, but as long as I live in here…"

"I understand, but you don't have to be this desperate in cleaning." Ichigo put his glasses back in place. "My house is _your_ house, until you get married…well, I'll spoil any possible chances of your marriage, anyway. None could taste your salt-grilled sauries."

"Hey! What do you think of other's eternal happiness to be?!" That's his short-tempered Orihime-chan. A shallow smile appeared on his lips.

"There'll be years for you to clean. The house won't be in rubbles for decades…" He flipped a page and remembered something, "Oh yes, I've heard from Taki that you're drawing with cosmetics? She's even showed me her copied ones. Why aren't you drawing in home?"

Orihime blushed; she's never imagined that someone would discreetly treasure her doodles. She rubbed her neck nervously and glanced to a side, "…All I ever want to draw at home…is you…"

Ichigo, with his eyes originally in his book, raised his thick lashes, looking at her with his glittering ambers. Despite being by his side for so long, it still managed to make her breathless.

"Not drawing other things?"

"…No."

He deepened his smile, yet still being so shallow that it's nearly unnoticeable. "What pose should I make? Do I have to take my glasses off?"

"No, don't! Everything's fine!" She's worried that she'd anger or upset him by staring like that. It's unexpected that he'll be willing to do so! She rushed to her room to retrieve her sketchbook and utensils with wild joy.

"It's because of my beauty?" He asked absentmindedly and flipped a page.

"Yes, of course." She sharpened her pencils. "Nevertheless, you've got something beyond beauty. You make artists desire to draw you…and only you…" Every time she put her pencils to draw a line, there'd be surprises. It'd be aloofness, coldness, agility and strength or frailness that appeared in a blink.

_"Draw only you."_ The peaceful lake in his mindscape rippled because of this sentence. He stared at his book, but not a single word sank deep into his mind.

"…Does it still hurt, your wound on your neck?" He's long forgotten the emotion of fear. However, every time he lay his eyes on the bleeding wound…his fingers twitched slightly.

"No, not now…not when I'm drawing you…" She replied, then gathered herself to lay down the first line.

"Hmm…it seems that you're hot on me." Ichigo stared at the book with a small smirk.

"Only pigs would be hot on you!" Orihime shouted. "Shut up, will you, Model-san? I'm on your lips!"

When she reached to draw his locks of silky hair, she couldn't help but wonder: has he bleached his hair? She knew most of the models would, especially when they're attending fashion shows. One odd thing was that she's never found a single rinse in the house when doing the cleaning. So, could it be his natural colour? She _knew_ her burnt-orange hair colour's odd too, in a sense. However, it's still reasonable: her parents were both brunettes, with her father in a darker shade and her mother a lighter one. With the mixture of genes, it's explainable. What about Ichigo? She wanted to ask, but taking a glance at his absorption in reading, she kept her mouth shut this time.

They remained in silence for some minutes. When she's laying the finishing touches, she attempted another topic.

"Something's been bugging me for a long time…" She peered at Ichigo over her sketchbook. Seeing that he's open to talk, she continued, "About your name…"

The reaction's simultaneous, for he scowled deeply immediately. "No matter how I've emphasized, I just couldn't correct the mistakes. People keep sending me strawberry-themed gifts, but truth be told, I kinda hate them. If it's not its nutritional values, I'd rather not eat them. As for my 15-themed clothes," He yanked his shirt and continued, "Though I don't like this meaning much, it's still okay, for it sort of reminds me of my fifteenth living year."

Orihime's made a pact with herself not to step in the boundaries that involved Ichigo's past. "If it's not 'strawberry' or '15', then…?"

"You know how to write my name, don't you?" He wriggled a finger in the air to write the words. "It means 'the Number One Guardian'; it's probably the only thing my old man's given me that I'm proud of. Ever since I learnt of it, I've shouldered the responsibility to protect those around me. Take you for example," A glint flashed through his eyes. "I'll guard you and pulverize those who ask for your hand."

A vein popped in Orihime's temple. With a roar, she flung her sketchbook with the finished line drawing at Ichigo.

* * *

><p>They tried possibly not to get out of the house unless it's for the sake of keeping them alive. Even though it's a day of rest without shows, Ichigo followed her closely behind; going to the supermarket with her fell into that category. Orihime understood a little that after the incident involving Rukia, Ichigo's been on his full alert. What she couldn't manifest was that Ichigo preferred being her guard to letting her to be on her own.<p>

But do I want to be on my own? She looked at her reflection in the mirror, combing her hair after a nice bath. Compared to Ichigo's blinding glamour of a diamond, she's only a mere pebble; him a god, she a lowly human. Despite this, she's still screaming obscenities and curses at him.

Why did he allow her? All for the sake of just wanting a make-up artist with satisfactory jobs that he won't mind a bit of bad words? To him, I'm perhaps only a make-up artist, right? This sudden idea made a pang in her heart, leaving her in pain. What if…if…he doesn't need me anymore?

She lay in bed on her stomach. Moist heat stung her eyes, but nothing came out.

After all, this is not my home. She opened her bankbook and relieved for a moment. Her desire to have her own home grew stronger along with the growing amount of savings in her account. With a house of her own, she could cry freely…taken that Ichigo needed her no more.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) It's true; I've seen them even in bags of tightly-vacuumed rice.**

**(2) Like how the Northern Beijing dialect is the standard pronunciation for Putonghua, the Tokyo ascent is the standard pronunciation for Japanese.**

**(3) Written as Kanji to be 黒道, it literally means "Dark Path".**

**(4) In Asian cultures, (mostly) surnames are said before the given name, so I think it's natural for Ichigo to introduce himself in a western way, as he's in France.**

**(5) As for Rukia, I put her to be from a Japanese family in France that her name calling method goes in this order.**

**(6) Here I try to make a reference to Ichigo always being attacked by his dad, but it's not just one here.**

**(7) Well, just want to give Ichigo an English nickname (what Japanese call for Asians with an English name) if he ever has one…and it happened to be a French city/town name.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**Whoa! Another chapter ends, and now we know who and how grand Ichigo is, and there're still more to come! Just stay in tune!**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	4. Be Careful of the Hidden But Bared Fangs

**Hello there and thank you guys for following me up to the lengthy Chapter 4!**

**If you've left me reviews, thank you very much! Let's carry on the story!**

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><p><strong>Be Careful of the Hidden But Bared Fangs.<strong>

"I'm no commercial model." Ichigo said plainly. "I have no interest in cosmetic ads, Taki. Isn't there also an exhibition by a factory of ready-made clothes? I prefer going there."

"The factory requires _female_ models, Ichigo." Taki's having a throbbing headache with this obstinate supermodel. "What's wrong with modelling for cosmetics? You just have to show your face…"

"I have no interest in the manufacturer Ginrei Kojaku." Ichigo glared at her coldly.

"_Why_?" Taki felt like yelling. "You've also participated in the ads for Fornicarás, then what's with Ginrei Kojaku?"

"I won't do the cases which are related to the Kurosaki Enterprise." Wanting to end the conversation, he stood up.

"It's _not_ under the Enterprise!" Taki's persistent in persuading him to go. "Ginrei Kojaku is an independent—"

"You know it as well as I do." He put on his jacket. "I'm going. Orihime's waiting for me at home."

"Don't you think that you're being too attentive to her?" Taki blurted out, hoping that this would clear his mind. She had no idea that she's acting like an one-year-old toddler despite all the years she's spent with him. "She'll become your weakness! Rukia—"

"Aren't you being careless here, Taki?" Ichigo turned around and looked at her with slight interest. "You're my agent, right? A model agent shouldn't be knowing these kinds of 'messages'. If you aren't dutiful to your gaoler post, mind that you'll fall. How do you know that you're not under surveillance?"

Taki's choked by his words and looked around nervously. What's she afraid of? She's searched this office high and low for three times thoroughly: no recorders, cameras or any kinds of surveillance devices in the office room; she's quite a professional at these things. Perhaps, just perhaps…her Master's long forgotten the mission he's bestowed on her. "I'm always loyal to you."

"It's alright for you to be loyal to my identity as a model and nothing else." He opened the door and repeated. "You're my agent, aren't you?"

He met a smartly-dressed young man with glasses at the front door. The man looked at Ichigo in surprise and asked Taki, "It's him? When can we start?"

"…I think Ichigo's not very suitable for it…we can have another—" She said awkwardly.

"I need nobody else." He interrupted.

Taki felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Every men is so stubborn as a mule. If that's so, then she really have to give a good thinking about her marriage…

"Ichigo, this is the new CEO of Ginrei Kojaku, Ishida Uryuu. Ishida-san, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"You're so gorgeous!" Uryuu sized that flawless face up with awe. "Are you really a man? I've heard your fame…"

"My apologies, but I won't take up the cases which are related to the Kurosaki Enterprise. You could find thousands of female stars or singers who wished to make ads for your company," Ichigo conveyed his intentions in firm calmness. "Excuse me."

"…I thought you're a professional model." Uryuu said behind him as he's about to get out.

"I am." Ichigo stopped in his tracks.

"You are?" The man crossed his arms defiantly with a slight crease of his brows. "If you're _really_ a professional model, then you shouldn't be declining cases because of the enterprises that you dislike. It's reasonable if you refuse because you find this ad is not challenging at all or you're not up to it. But because of 'the Kurosaki Enterprise'? It's only one of our shareholders!"

Uryuu felt that he's missed his last breath as Ichigo turned around. Oh, God…a glacial beauty that contained the fury of a raging hurricane! His heart fluttered; it's him! The fair appearance he should have in his dreams! I have to convince this lovely being…

"I have my own reasons. Maybe I should put it in this way: I'm being careful." Ichigo looked straight at the handsome but possessive man. "Or, maybe you're not a marionette of the Kurosaki Enterprise?"

"And what do you think?" Uryuu pushed his glasses and rebutted sharply. "Or perhaps you can tell me why you're so afraid of that enterprise?"

The supermodel didn't reply, but measured this crude and rash man before him. He's not strange to that face, painted with interest and desire of subjugation. However, is this man an idiot conquered by pure desires, or is he having other evil intentions? That's something that he had to consider over carefully…

"Ichigo!" A cheery voice came along with the fragrance of food. "Hello, Taki-san! It's been a while!"

"Why have you come, Orihime?" Seeing the innocent wench somehow-barging in with a picnic basket, he frowned in disapproval to conceal his shock.

"I've been waiting for you for so long that the food's turned cold!" She's also frowning with cute anger. "You should at least give me a call and tell me that you're not coming home for lunch! Are you having a sudden case to deal with now? I was thinking that you and Taki haven't had lunch, so I brought them here…"

Since her crash-in, Uryuu's glued his eyes on Orihime. She's not very tall, but she owned delicate facial features that in comparison with other women, she's like a small bud of jasmine among a sea of furiously-blooming peonies. Her body features could nicely fake people that she's still in adolescence, purely sweet and extremely adorable. His wants boiled in his mind, aching to see the pain and licentiousness on her gently innocent face after being cruelly devastated.

He _desired_ for both, be it the heavenly gorgeous supermodel or this exquisitely pure damsel of another dimension; gender's not a problem.

"Arisawa-san, this is…?" He didn't bother to look at the agent.

"My apologies. Orihime, this is Ishida Uryuu, the CEO of Ginrei Kojaku." Taki found his fervency to be unnervingly abnormal. "Ishida-san, this is Inoue Orihime, Ichigo's personal make-up artist."

"Oh, you're Kurosaki-san's make-up artist?" Uryuu's eyes had a flash of joy. "Our company, Ginrei Kojaku, is trying to invite Kurosaki-san to do a commercial for us. Do you have any interest in our products, Inoue-san?"

Ginrei Kojaku? Orihime's face beamed, "Oh yes! I _really_ adore those colourful cosmetics of your company! The texture is fine and easy to be applied on equally! The latest mascara—"

"You aren't going to give up, are you?" Ichigo stopped her with his cold and hard ambers. For Uryuu's hidden greed, he felt a chill going down his spine. "Alright, I'm taking up the case. Taki, I'll leave the rest to you." Without a word, he grabbed Orihime's arm and disappeared into the streets.

Behind him, Taki looked at his rare chaotic side with an unfathomable gaze. However, Uryuu saw another thing.

A glacial beauty in pure black and a pure wench in pure white…a rare black rose and a delicate jasmine, alongside with each other…

He must get them, no matter the costs.

* * *

><p>"Why did you come to the office on your own?" Ichigo restrained himself from roaring in anger at her. Seeing her painful expression, he released his grip on her arm. He remembered vividly the weeks-long purple bruise on her arm the last time he held her so tightly like this, and he self-accused as long as the bruise's visible. "What if Renji—"<p>

"He couldn't inflict a thing on me." Orihime knew there'll definitely be another bruise, but she tasted odd sweetness in her heart as she noticed his worry for her.

"How do you know?!" This time, he really snapped at her. Noticing her wince at his raised volume, he cleared his throat with a cough, keeping himself in check. "You _have no idea_ what dirty tricks he'll pull—"

"I know." She put up a brave smile. "Though indirectly, he had the nerve to suggest them to me."

Ichigo's face grew pale and turned slightly pink out of anger in the matter of a second. Such a pretty face, but now painted with blazing anger. No one wouldn't be intimated by it.

"It's alright," Luckily Renji's not with them, or else…she's better not to imagine what'd become of him at the time being. "I've refused them all. I guess you're right; I'm not going to let 'money' sit on my shoulders."

That finally eased him a bit. This little wench, powerlessly weak, always awed him with her strong will of iron which he could never underestimate.

"But you still have to keep a wary eye on him." He released a sigh. "Another thing: you're not going with me to this shooting."

"_WHY?!_" It shocked Orihime to anger. "It's my job as _your_ make-up artist! I'm not letting others to apply make-up for you!"

"Just listen to me." His tone allowed no rebuttal. "I never wanted to agree to this case in the first place. On the other hand, the quicker I fulfil that devil of a man's requests, the sooner I'm telling him off from me as far as possible. All I want is to finish this mess up fast."

"But I _really_ want to visit Ginrei Kojaku…!" Orihime still protested.

"You want to visit cosmetics companies or consult for cosmetology information, I can bring you to Fornicarás." He's also firm on his ground. "But _never_ Ginrei Kojaku!"

"What're you so afraid of?" She sounded to be angry and depressed. "He's not going to eat me or something!"

"I'm afraid of—" Ichigo then became conscious of what he's going to say next and held his tongue before he let the words slip. His face grew pale again as he darted his eyes around for distraction and lay them on the picnic basket in Orihime's hands. "I-I'm afraid of the cold lunch. What've you cooked today?"

"It's shrimp tempura, sweet potato tempura and vegetable curry," Once on the topic of cooking, she forgot about their argument a beat ago immediately. "Oh! I've forgotten to bring rice!"

Well, even though she's brought rice, could they eat in the busy streets? Furthermore, it's now in the middle of November and the weather's pretty chilly; not an ideal time for picnics.

"We can't just squat by a side like beggars, unless you want to receive money while 'performing'?" Thank god, for her nature of being easily-distracted. He thought for a while, "C'mon, I know a restaurant nearby where we can eat.

"But we can't bring these into restaurants," She sounded a little depressed. "I really want you taste them…"

"This one definitely can." He held onto Orihime and walked into a restaurant with the traditional household designs. The customers were having conversations happily, forming a cosy atmosphere around.

"Sorry for interrupting, Urahara-san!" He greeted the fifty-something-looking man in a lot of green with a smile.

"Y-Y-Young Master?" The man's eyes widened to saucers at the sight under the brim of his bucket hat. Happiness brought energy back to his slightly-wrinkled weary face with studs on his chin. "Yoruichi-san! It's the Young Master!"

"Young Master? As in _the_ Young Master?" Despite her advanced age, a woman came running towards them from the kitchen behind paper screens with impressive speed. With a gasp, she pulled Ichigo into a bear hug and smeared a bit of her happy tears onto his shirt. It all made Orihime wonder her _actual_ age; from her young appearance without a single streak of grey in those flowing locks of purple hair to her sharp movements… "Oh my word, dear boy, I thought you've totally forgotten your nursemaid! Here, have a seat!"

"Yeah, it's been such a long time, Young Master!" The man grinned widely as he opened his fan to cool his head down a bit. He then spotted and measured Orihime from head to toe.

"She's my assistant," He smiled. "Can we have two bowls of rice? Orihime's brought our lunch."

"Of course, Young Master. Yoruichi-san, please get some of our best pickles and some miso soup for us!" The owner lay the table and got them rice eagerly. His eyes were filled with curiosity as he turned to Orihime, "What a lovely missy here! How old are you? Where do you come from? How long have you been with our Young Master? Have you married—"

"Urahara-san," Ichigo stopped him gently. "Tell Yoruichi-san come and eat with us too. Orihime's cookery is great."

Even the owners of a _restaurant_ were praising her food! Orihime's cheeks were tainted with pink from happiness.

A joyous lunch, a happy Orihime and the enthusiastic restaurant-runners were what calmed Ichigo's uneasiness. Especially his nursemaid; the warm aura, her gentle feline-yellow eyes and slightly calloused hands had the magic to calm him down at all times. In this evil and unreliable world, this was the last sanctuary other than his house.

After leaving the couples with an empty picnic basket, they made a rare trip to the bookstore in the crowded mall. They even dined out for dinner before returning home with Ichigo taking the basketful of books all the time.

"It's been a great day!" Her lovely cheeks flushed a lovely hue of pink in happiness as she flipped through _Breaking Dawn_. He also smiled, turning a page of his newly bought _The Taming of the Shrew_. The words that he couldn't speak up in the afternoon were still lingering in his heart, fogging his eyes and making him unable to register a word of the book.

What am I afraid of? I'm afraid of letting you get hurt, afraid of losing you…

The thought of speaking and doing nothing…he got agitated out of the blue. What should I do with Orihime? Before anything happens, is it alright to bring her to safe shelters? Or…let her leave my side?

An icicle stabbed through his heart. It's nevertheless an imaginative idea, he still couldn't bear it. He squeezed his eyes closed, attempting to calm the fear in his heart. Perhaps "that man's" totally left him in the back of his mind, or "he's" ashamed of him in this state.

After a few minutes, Ichigo finally soothed the raging fears in his heart. It's then he realized Orihime's fallen asleep. The book on her lap dropped onto the floor with a heavy thump.

He carried her into her room and covered her body with a sheet. How long have I not been gentle to someone? He wondered with a bitter smile as he flicked the locks away from her forehead, gazed at her for a long time and returned to his room.

I'll protect her. This strong thought stayed in his chest despite he hasn't said it out loud. He'll definitely protect her until she left willingly.

It's because, he didn't have the courage to send her away anymore…

* * *

><p>Eh? How come I've gotten into bed? She snapped her eyes open and realized that she's not even changed into her pyjamas. The sun's nearly in the middle of the sky. The breeze brought in the warmth of the wintery sun through the white lacy curtains.<p>

Could it be…Ichigo? In her state of half-consciousness, she felt someone's embrace. Her cheeks burnt, trying to get rid of his chest from her mind.

His appearance always seemed to be very lean, but Orihime knew that he has a habit of daily jogging. Maybe he also went to gymnasiums or something; once she's spotted a set of Taekwondo uniform in his drawer when tidying his room, with his consent, of course.

No matter what he's done, Ichigo's chest's very reliable, making her feel safe…

…What the heck am I doing, thinking of a man early in the morning? She shook her head like a wet dog and then worked herself to death in order to get rid of inappropriate thoughts. When it's all done and she sat in the sofa, her thoughts wandered to his nice skin…she rushed to have a cold bath.

Geez…I've believed that only men would be perverts…my brain's got wrecked after living with him for so long. She sighed and got her wallet.

"Good morning, Inoue-san." She came face-to-face with Ishida Uryuu once she opened the gates. "I'm about to ring the bell."

"Err…Ichigo's out." She kept her manners. "Maybe you should wait for him to come back…"

"How unfortunate." He shrugged. "I thought that models get up late?"

"Ichigo jogs early in the morning unless he's got work to do." She locked the door. "Another day, perhaps? I think you should have a booking with Taki…"

I knew, of course; I saw him going to the park. A knowing flash crossed Uryuu's face.

"What a shame," He pulled up a disappointed look as much as he could. "I've initially intended to let him pay a visit to our factory. I wish that my models won't be innocent to my company; that won't have good pictures." He considered for a while, "Or would you like to pay a visit with me, Inoue-san? I know you're his make-up artist, right? It'd be more persuasive for you to visit our company and test out our new products…" No matter how pretty his words were, a pure girl as Orihime could even seen that it's only a mask with unpersuasive reasons.

"…I think you should really have a booking with Taki." She held her wallet tighter in her hand and turned to go.

"I really couldn't lie to you." He smiled. "True, I'm not waiting for him; I'm waiting for you."

"Me?" It's more shocking than seeing him at the front door.

"Yes." He leant against his BMW and pushed his glasses. "Do I have the honour to have breakfast with you?"

"I've had it." What does he ever want?!

"…I want to win your heart." Uryuu's being blunt, as if he could read her unspoken query.

Orihime looked at him suspiciously as if looking at a lunatic. Her heart's still as pure as the newly fallen snow for never been in love. Her greatest interests, up till now, were still only drawing and her job as Ichigo's make-up artist. She rarely paid attention on unknown men, as well as the foreign feelings of love.

"I won't allow you to." She's being straight too. "Goodbye, Ishida-san. I've got shopping to do."

"Is it because Kurosaki-san holds the pedestal in your mind? You have really special tastes in men." Uryuu's wry voice came from her back.

She swirled around with a red face. "It's none—!"

"It's none of your business." A cold voice overwhelmed theirs with its enormous presence. Walking towards them was Ichigo, facing Uryuu with an expressionless face.

"My apologies. I've stepped over the line." He raised his hands in a defeated motion. "I don't mean harm. All I want is to invite both of you to pay a visit to my factory."

"Please have a booking with Taki. It's none of my matters after I've agreed." Ichigo shot him a cold glance.

"Alright." Enjoying his angry face, beautiful as the icebergs, Uryuu felt that he's got a big catch today. Even they might put up a barrier to fend him off, at least I'm deeply imprinted in their mind. After a last push of his glasses, he left.

"…Has he done anything to you?" Looking at the disappearing vehicle, Ichigo finally relaxed his tensed muscles. A plain tone covered his worries.

"No," Orihime's also terrified by this rude and arbitrary man. "But I don't like those eyes when he's looking at you."

That's _my_ line! Ichigo's eyes darkened again as his thoughts raced. Who's exposed my address? The idea wandered to Taki and he clenched his jaws. A deep breath, he calmed down as quickly as he's outraged. "Orihime, you're coming with me to this shooting."

"Eh? But you've said—"

"Ignore what I've said earlier. You're coming with me to the shooting, and never be alone by yourself. No matter where he's planning to take you to, just don't follow him. Understand?"

Orihime nodded and stood closer to him with slight fear.

"…Don't worry. I'll look after you, I promise." It's because…nearly all these disasters were brought about by me.

* * *

><p>Taki lit a cigarette. Just as she's expected, Ichigo really came.<p>

"You told my address to Ishida Uryuu?" He said in a calm voice. An expressionless face hid all his emotions.

"Yeah." She spew out a puff of white smoke.

"…Our cooperation ends here." Again with the calm voice. "I'll get another agent myself. As for the reneging fees…"

"God damn that!" She spat viciously. "_You_ know as well as I do. You can _never_ get rid of me!"

Ichigo looked at her. "Why?"

"…I'm not letting her get you away from me." She smiled bitterly. "If I'm losing you, then I'll be destroying you with my own two hands. _He_'ll destroy you, worse than I'll." The fingers that held the cigarette trembled. She hissed on, "That devil's already ruined dozens, men and women alike!"

"Oh my, it seems like a confession." The smile on his face was breath-taking, yet full of icy cruelty. "I see. The gaoler's fallen in love with the prisoner. Am I right, Taki?"

"It's _me_ who carved out your stunning beauty!" She stood up straight vigorously. "It's _me_ who told you the definition of 'El Modelo de Magia'! It's _me_ who taught you how to walk on the runway and how to captivate every soul! I'm your _teacher_, your _company_, your _creator_! How could you ignore me?! Just because of that little girl?!"

"And also my gaoler." The model inched closer to her, sending bolts of fear and joy in her body. Nobody understands Ichigo's cold-heartedness more than she does, for she's witnessed how he's treated his enemies with her own two eyes. Heck, he didn't _even_ bother that he's doing it in front of his _best childhood friend_. Even after years, the strained cries of pain still haunted in her nightmares as every one of the assassins had their fingers snapped one by one. Other than their usual brown ambers, his eyes have become as sharp yellow as hazard signs in laboratories, and that _manic_ grin…it seemed as if he's become another person, someone who's on cloud nine with the joy of murdering in pure bestial instincts.

"What're you afraid of? Aren't you craving for me?" He stroke her cheek and trembling lips gently. "Don't worry; you're pretty like my mother for you're my 'creator', and I've yet had the determination to perform 'matricide'. For one thing: you shouldn't really have created my glamour. And stop trembling and look at me." The instant she obeyed, she regretted it. "You haven't believed that I'd learnt 'bewitchment' so quickly, have you? You've planned to merely act out your master's orders, but you've had no idea that you'll fall under my charms." His eyes were clear like the golden ambers she's seen in the past, and his lips hovered above hers for only a few centimetres.

Her mind went blank. She wanted to escape, but she desired more to stay.

"Are you loyal to me, Tatsuki, just as you've vowed back in those years? Do you promise not to do such foolish things anymore? Will you protect Orihime, as you've done so to me?" His lips furthered to hers, tickling her hotly. She wanted to cry out of such seductive proclivity.

"…_Yes_…" Her voice's barely audible.

After the torturous long moment, he kissed her. She couldn't remember anything, but the glee and terror nearly blow her mind off. Once he got loose of her, she'd drop to the ground if she hasn't grabbed the table in time to steady.

"Remember your commitment." Even without a tint of make-up, his fearsome beauty surpassed that when he's on the stages, tickling the hearts of those who dared to look straight at him. He left silently for some minutes, but Taki's yet recovered from her shock.

What's she ever done wrong? Has she unleashed a demon with seductive charms to the world? She stroke her shivering lips, sensing the astonishing heat on them. It's no kiss; it's a _sear_.

"Taki-san? Taki-san!" She nearly jumped out of her skin and righted the steering wheel in her hands. She saw Orihime's caring eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Taki-san looks really pale today. Do we have the need to visit the factory today? I really don't want to see Ishida-san…"

"They've invited us, so why not? Besides, Taki's alright," Ichigo's smile's barely visible. "Right, Taki?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She cleared her mind and concentrated on the traffic.

Orihime looked at the agent and her boss suspiciously. She could guess there's something hidden between them, but she couldn't point it out. It's just…Taki seemed to be scared of Ichigo.

"What have you ever done to Taki-san?" She asked quietly. "You haven't put her to cruel torture, have you?" She knew Taki's at fault for revealing his address, but he shouldn't have use such violence.

"Of course not." Ichigo rolled his stiff shoulders. "More frightful than that."

Orihime narrowed her eyes under furrowed brows. "You couldn't have…?"

"I hold her salary back." He closed his eyes.

…Sadly, I know I'm pretty stupid, but even I'm not that stupid of an idiot to believe that.

She turned her head to gaze at the cosmetics factory in the suburbs, getting closer to them every passed second. She couldn't say _what_ she didn't like about Ishida Uryuu, but she felt that he's always measuring her with eyes as if looking at her naked. She could partially accept that to herself, but even to _Ichigo_…she pretty wanted to crack that freak's skull open, she had to admit. But what freaked her the most was that this man seemed to be enjoying their discomfort with smiles, such as the one he's giving them now.

"Welcome to my humble kingdom." He greeted them with some senior workers at the front door. "Did you have a good journey here? Isn't Taki-san coming with us?"

"Thank you for your concerns," Ichigo answered. "Taki's a bit ill from the bumpy ride, so she's not with us today."

He's provoking me, the model thought to himself as he tried to figure out this man's intentions. But the problem is _what_'s he provoking me with? On their way in the factory, the young CEO's introducing and explaining the lines like your regular guidebooks, displaying the various samples, and even having a meeting with the managers and the advertisement company. It's just _too_ flawlessly normal that it's rather odd. He looked at those came from the advertisements company, knowing that they've got nothing to do with Ishida Uryuu. These all made him wonder: what the hell's his true objective?

"So, how do you think of my factory?" Uryuu pushed his glasses with a smile. "It surely suits you with this industry of beauty."

"You mean a model, or the cosmetics?"

"Both." The smile never left. "You want to visit the floors downstairs?"

"I think we might not be suitable to further down. That should be the laboratories, right? So there must be lots of secret formulas. You know, I want to avoid any unnecessary misconceptions." Ichigo halted in his steps.

"What can you ever steal by just watching? Such a hard chance to come by, why not go there as well?" Uryuu chuckled lightly. He edged a bit closer to the model. "Besides, you know what I want to steal the most?"

"I've got no interest in it." A slip of his eyes to the right, he replied. "Sorry, but we'll have to wait for Orihime. She's gone to the bathroom."

"Ishida-san!" His secretary rushed in with raging breaths and muttered a few words into his ears. The young CEO's frown got darker as it went on and thought for a while.

"I've got some private matters to tend to, so please excuse me. Feel like yourself and look around the factory."

"'Feel like yourself and look around the factory'? Even the laboratories?" The model lifted the corners of his lips so slightly that you couldn't see his smile. However, Uryuu just did, and even enjoying it, like a blooming peony.

"You're my honourable guests; of course you can." After that, he left the spot in a hurry. Not long after he's left, his eyes caught something around the corner.

"What's taking you so long?" Seeing Orihime running to him anxiously, he made it possible for his scowl to deepen, but nevertheless released a sigh.

"There's a woman who's dropped this order list, but I can't find her." What an enormous laboratory, she nearly got lost.

"An order list?" He took it for a look. "Where did you get this?"

"I don't know." Orihime scratched her head. "She's in laboratory cloaks and cursing loudly, and that she didn't notice this to have fallen from her files. I wanted to give it back to her, but she's gone like a gust of wind."

"What's she cursing about?" He read in more details.

Orihime found it strange, but she answered word by word, "She seemed to be saying, 'What the heck?! Always sending the wrong things…we aren't needing some God-damned-am-mine! The money's not for a full storehouse of these to be returned!' Well…something like that."

He nodded. "Where did you get that?"

"Err…next to this pot…hey!" She protested and tried to pick it up, but Ichigo, who's thrown it back to the floor, held her back.

"Someone will come and get it eventually. If we're found and accused to be stealing secret formulas in a place not ours, how unfortunate we'll be. Come on, I've got my eyes caught on some of the interesting testing and samples…" It's _indeed_ an enterprise under the Kurosaki. What's he trying to play at? His smile's tainted with coldness and went home without leaving traces. For the few times Uryuu tried to pry things from him, he beat about the bushes. Although the studio had an extremely unpleasant being around him, he finished his job as a professional model.

When Orihime got a copy of the poster, she felt a sense of achievement filling in her heart. The advertisement company's been babbling nonstop, but Ichigo persisted on having Orihime only to apply make-up for him. It's only a shoot of the size of his face alone, but his glacial beauty and magnificence have captured those who looked at the poster.

"Many are yearning for the posters, I've heard!" Orihime's deeply moved. "Taki-san's phones have been ringing nonstop that they're going to malfunction! Everybody wants to know who's that gorgeous model."

"Let them be," All Ichigo did was going through his book page after page intently. "Just don't reveal my address to anyone anymore."

"But Renji had the balls to accept the interviews," She made a cute pout. "Furthermore, he said the model's a man."

"He only had the balls of revealing this much." He rested his chin in his palm. "It's your merit to the success. You've got good control of the colours."

Orihime rolled her eyes. "It's not. It's because of your beauty…it's so stunning that you could make even the stoniest heart to beat, as if telling a lot of things to the others…"

"I _do_ have a lot to tell." He sighed lightly. "Can the photographer don't stick in so closely? I'm a sizzling-to-be-burnt egg on the bare sand of the Sahara. Ah, and that reminds me: can you stop sticking in here and there all the time?"

Recalling what's happened that day, Orihime broke out into hysterical laughter, neglecting Ichigo's deadly blades of glares behind the glasses.

**_* Flashback *_**

_It's the first time for Orihime to experience the shooting of models. She's seen how wonderful the models looked on the magazines, but none had the idea of how hot the studio was, for the workers tried to put up the most suitable light for the shooting._

_"Stick in closer!" The photographer urged._

_"What?" Orihime's been busying with the make-up._

_"The lights." Ichigo pointed at the magnesium lamps, so hot that they've been fizzling for a moment with the heated steam around them. "'Stick in' means to move them closer."_

_After everything's ready with him sitting in front of the camera, the photographer urged again, "Stick it in more…and I mean MORE! That's not enough…more…"_

_"The model can't bear it the more you stick it in!" The make-up's starting to dissolve._

_"But it's needed, so bear with me! Come on, stick it in closer…MORE CLOSER…!"_

_"He can't anymore! Let him rest for a while—" Orihime added in her whines among the staff's cries._

_"Unbearable at this degree?! Don't joke with me! Stick in…"_

_Under the pressure of the attendants' protests—and a rather scary threat from Taki, the photographer gave in and called for a rest. Everyone sighed in relief. Without others' looking except the two females closest to him, Ichigo dashed out of the studio. When Orihime and Taki found him in another room, they thought that they've waltzed into a freezer; their beloved supermodel's turned the air-conditioner to the lowest temperature and him standing right in front of the machine, giving not a damn that the breeze's messing his styled hair or he'll get sick from it._

_It took a dozen of staff, including Orihime and Taki, to coax him back to the studio. Once, they started the savage torture all over again. After half an hour, Ichigo himself called for a stop; he didn't make a noise of protest the last time._

_"What's with it this time?!" The photographer's patience's wearing thin._

_"The more you're dragging with the shooting, the more I'll look like the Joker from 'The Dark Knight'." Orihime could see the getting-obvious likeliness between her boss and the foe in the Batman movie they've watched last week; but that's two different images in her mind—one a prince and one a monster. The make-up's melting at an alarming rate that it's the best for her to redo it from scratch._

_"…Fine!" The photographer groaned. "But you'd better hurry this time!"_

_When all done—Ichigo insisted to have the make-up done in the freezer room, and Orihime had to wear coats over coats to fend off the cold, or else she'll be drawing lovely caterpillars on his face; O Good Lord, it's mid-June now!—the photographer roared for everything to be in position. This time, he turned a deaf ear to the protests again and carried on with the progress in the studio._

_That carried on for two gruesome hours._

**_* Flashback *_**

"Say…" Ichigo scowled with a grunt. "Can't they _please_ stick it in the right place for once and for all? I've been dancing in your brutal hands for _two hours_…and _stop laughing_."

"…I…I can't—" Orihime gasped through her laughs. Rather than scowling anymore, Ichigo smirked, flipping a page.

"Fine, then I'll have no choice but to hold back your salary for three years…" He smirked more as she shut quiet.

* * *

><p>"The raped-for-two-hours leading male has appeared!" Those who's participated in the successful shooting attended the glee feast, joking as they clapped. Wearing in full black, Ichigo smiled to receive the praises.<p>

"It should be eight, right? My, I thought our gorgeous model-sama couldn't make it to the end…" They made a clamour of laughter, admiring his makeunder.

Surprisingly, the legendary icy supermodel didn't possess the expected aura of pride around him. On the other hand, he got along well with the staff, chatting with clever words. His attitude towards work made people feel that _this_ should be the proper temperament of a professional model.

"Why do you have to attend the party?" Taki looked around the hubbub. "You never like places like these."

He smiled lightly, an undersized spark skipped in his ambers. "The advertisement was a great success."

Taki glanced at him thoughtfully and made way for another horde of people.

* ~ 0 ~ *

Ichigo retreated to a side for a break from meeting this many people. He's lost count of how many hands he's shaken with, be them men or women. Their faces of admiration have never imprinted deeply in his mind, but he sharpened a bit of his attention when he got a card of Ginrei Kojaku.

"Good evening," A weird-looking man grinned at him. "I'm Kurotsuchi Mayuri from the Reishi Publisher. It's a great pleasure to meet someone as beautiful as you—so beautiful that you're taking breaths out of people! My, my…you're really blessed and favoured by the creators…such a flawless face that crosses the boundaries of genders…makes me—"

"You're a director in Ginrei Kojaku?" He spotted a small line of words on it.

"A small shareholder," Albeit his weird appearance and hairstyle, his grin's still sincere. "Only 20%."

Holding _20% of shares_ and still being "small"? He raised a bit of his brows in thought. Kurotsuchi, hmm…the honest Kurotsuchi House which have gained their fame and success through scientific research, helping the development of the country?

"Oh, where're my manners? Let me introduce to you, my—_Nemu! Come over here!_—sorry, this is my daughter," A young wench with a single braid trod merrily towards them.

"Oh dear, I've finally got to see you!" Her voice's trembling with excitement, but she never forgot her bows. "I've heard you've visited our factory? If I've known earlier, I'd have rushed for your sign and put the damn experiments aside!"

"You're also working in Ginrei Kojaku, Kurotsuchi-san?" A flash crossed in the ambers. He put up a shallow smile on his lips, "In which department, may I ask?"

"The Experiment Department," Oh god…the _supermodel Kurosaki Ichigo_ IS talking to her now! She could faint from happiness… "I really hoped to bring you for a tour, but we've got too much secret formulas there…"

"Experiment? It's really rare to have women in laboratories; impressive." He smiled gently. "I intended to visit the laboratories, but I've heard a girl cursing about sending wrong goods, so I stepped back from it."

"That day?" Nemu thought for a while. "That should be me, I think…? Tsk, what the hell's with those directors and managers of the laboratories…always sending wrong things to us! Anyone would be as agitated as I had when they had to deal with that storehouse! The wanted won't come, but amphetamine instead…"

"Amphetamine?" The smile never left his face.

"Damn it," She frowned. "It's such a great amount to supply for all abusers in Japan for the next decade to come!"

"That much?" Even though he's still smiling, he didn't quite understand…

"Hmm, having fun talking to our best female scientist in all the laboratories?" Uryuu appeared soundlessly behind him. If it's not he's quite used to sneaks, Ichigo would've given him a good hard kick and sent him to the far Pacific… "Is there any information you'd like to know from her?"

"Yeah: she's a lovely woman with a straightforward and deft tongue." Ichigo's calm as ever.

"If you like her," Uryuu whispered at his ear. "I'll trade her for Orihime. Speaking of her, why she's not here today?"

"To do that you'll need the guts to offend the Kurotsuchi House. For your information, Kurotsuchi Mayuri still holds a lot of power hidden up in his sleeves despite being a publisher." Ichigo replied plainly. "I think you won't dare to, do you?"

Looking at the slender figure disappearing in the dark night, Uryuu appreciated in contentment. It's right there…my Great Prince of the Kurosaki House. It's all happening just right under your nose, but you've yet noticed anything. One day, every soul in the Kurosaki House will have to be on all fours and beg in front of me.

As for you and Orihime, you two will be in gold collars, asking for mercy before me.

That day is drawing closer…and closer…

* * *

><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**Nothing necessary.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**Finally, we know who Taki really is! Cookies to those who've already guessed her identity in the previous chapters! It also seems that Ichigo has a split personality. If you know the original Bleach story, you'll probably guess who that is. ;p**

**Another chapter! What do you think about it? I'll see you in the next chapter after you've left some nice comments for me!**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	5. A Feminine Prince, a Masculine Princess…

**Since I don't have much to say in here, I won't waste any more of your time here.**

**Oh, thanks to those who leave comments and reviews for me! _Hontou ni __Arigatou gozaimasu!_**

* * *

><p><strong>A Feminine Prince, a Masculine Princess…Oh My!<strong>

The success of the commercial advertisement brought up the sales of Ginrei Kojaku. Pursuing after the possible chances, the advertisement company planned to have all the models and stars that have been the spokesmen of Ginrei Kojaku to go to Phuket for the realistic scenes.

"Then?" Ichigo rubbed his throbbing temple and had a brow twitching slightly. "I've got to wear swimming trunks too?"

"No! No one's wearing swimsuits then." The planner stiffened; he's not going to let this project go to the landfill! "We've planned to have the spokesmen of Ginrei Kojaku to be in evening dresses or gowns in the beach, standing in the sea breeze with a piano or a violin—alongside with the local Thai musical instruments, of course. Beauties in hot clothes, the elegant temperament with the unpolluted sky and sea…ah ~ " His eyes sparkled in shoujo-manga-style as he imagined the scenes, nearly had a nosebleed and fainted from it. "Romance ~ ! That's the ultimate style of Ginrei Kojaku!"

Ichigo felt his stomach flipped. "How about Shiretoko Peninsula? Kondoi Beach sounds good as well. If not, I love the Hoshizuna-no-hama in Taketomi. Must we _really_ have to get overseas? I don't like plane flights!"

"Oh, my good sire!" The planner begged with wails. "Have mercy on us the poor! My legs are giving up on me for doing all these preparations! It's just a few hours of flight, and I've threatened the airline company to have all the latest blockbusters prepared for it!"

"I hate watching movies." It's not very convincing; watching movies comes second on his hobbies list below reading, but he'll grab onto any chances that'll let him not have to be on a flight. Besides, were the strong turbines in the studio not good enough? He nearly had his head blown off that day! Now, he's even going to a _beach_ for the stormy sea breezes with the hateful sand? He must go at all ways and even nail himself to the house so that he won't be leaving Japan.

"I-If you don't like movies, I've also prepared loads of online games for everyone!"

"Only Orihime still have a liking to such childish plaything." They better have Tetris prepared. Already an adult for five years, she's still staying up whole night for such an prehistoric game!

"Oh yeah! We've got Karaoke too! We can all sing during the flight, and the long hours would be gone in a blink!" The planner nearly fell on his knees. "Oh, _please_, Kurosaki-sama ~ ! If you're not coming, the project—!"

"I hate singing." The model sighed. "By the way, you should bug my agent about it. What the point in bugging me?"

"Taki-san said you won't be going," He at least has the dignity not to be like a cheap slave, throwing himself under people's feet. "Oh, I ask of you…_please_!"

* * *

><p>In the end, Ichigo, in great boredom, brought a merrily-bouncing Orihime onto the private plane. He's put on his sunglasses all the time, trying to have a nap. Oh God…can they <em>please<em> not to sing anymore? The live shows of idol stars have been so unbearable that they've driven away the sleepiness.

"Then, we should invite our new Ginrei Kojaku spokesman for a song!" Being a model in the spotlight of the year, Matsumoto Rangiku put the microphone in front of him with a sweet smile. Many have known that she's long harboured jealousy towards him for bereaving her chance to shine and sparkle in the previous opportunity as the spokeswoman. "C'mon, don't be such a party-pooper; you're the only and truly spokes_man_ of Ginrei Kojaku! Let us hear your voice!"

Ichigo remained seated. He knew how to spell "shame", unlike those stars who dared to make a noise. "I'm a model, not a singer."

"Oh, don't be like that. C'mon!" The others were starting to make a ruckus in the crammed plane. They've also long grew envious and scornful towards this gorgeous male model. Humph! Such a sissy man…how dare he had the guts to compete with them in the modelling industry instead of going to be actors or singers! How shameless!

"Go and have a song, Ichigo…" Orihime's face beamed. "I've never heard you sing at all!"

So troublesome…

"…Alright, you ask for it," He stood up and took the microphone.

"Take off your glasses too," Rangiku instigated. She's sure that he didn't have any make-up, and you can't consider a man handsome without any make-up. "No one sings with sunglasses."

With an impatient grunt, he took off the shades, as well as the noisy ruckus of those shrilly women, as they've got their tongues tied. The flawless skin reflected the light outside the plane and those ambers told a greater mystery than the best ones. Without any make-up, he's lost the bewitching feminine temptation on the runway, but with a bit more of a masculine handsomeness. Those who've been glimpsed at as his eyes rolled around blushed furiously.

Such a glamorous being…any note that comes from his full lips will snatch away any fluttering hearts…

"…To make it easier for a first-timer, we'll have something more suitable for men!" Rangiku arranged a CD in the player. "Well, this should be easy enough, so let's see!"

Heavy drums started the music and brought up a heavy band of percussion with strong electric guitar and keyboard **(1)**. They waited for the first syllables to be sung with excitingly thumbing hearts…watching the supermodel ripped his full tight lips open, holding their breaths…

…I-Is he an alien from another world that music never exists? Everyone stared at him in utter disbelief. Orihime hid her face behind her hands, trying to disclaim that this man's her boss.

"Superb…" The stunned planner murmured, "A song with such easy and heavy beats, and he still manages to miss all of them…just very super…"

"He totally ignores the music and sings the lyrics on his own tempo…"

"Such a cheap and easy song, such an awful performance…"

"I've thought that I've lost my musical senses, but it seems that I've still got some in me…"

"Not a bit of intonation! He surpasses any of the best rappers…"

"O Kami-sama ~ ! Please, stop him from singing anymore ~ !"

Despite the cries for him to stop, Ichigo finished the song calmly, remaining passive even though as if he's facing the most destructive tsunami waves. The plane, deafening for the last long hour, was now so quiet you could hear a pin drop on the carpet. Without another word, most—with pale faces—put on headphones and began to watch the blockbusters.

"Stop being an ostrich. It's over." He put his shades back on. "I've long said I'm not singing."

The reply he got from Orihime was a painful groan.

The team of staff, coming to welcome them, looked at the group of sick-looking fairs in confusion.

"What's happened?" One whispered at the planner's ear. "Got caught in a current? Have everyone got airsick? Why's everyone looking so pale?"

"Don't ask me." He pushed the staff roughly. "Just never wail like cats and ask for a song from Kurosaki-san!"

"A song?" The staff's utterly confused. "We've arranged a Karaoke room tonight. Why—?"

"Shaddap!" The planner groaned at his throbbing head. "Oh God ~ what a nightmare ~ !"

Orihime's face pale all the way to the hotel. "Your singing…"

"What about it?" Looking at the scorching sun, Ichigo's moods were nowhere as good.

"…I've finally understand why you didn't become an idol singer."

"Knowing your shameful weakness is a courageous virtue; and I'm a brave man with courage." He sighed. "Those women have blasted my ears off."

But you didn't have to blast ours—and I mean _all of ours_—off for revenge in folds back!

* * *

><p>"W-Wait!" Looking at the list of their allotment of rooms, Orihime grabbed the staff exasperatedly. "Why do I have to be in the same room with Ichigo?! I'm a <em>female<em>!"

The staff blinked and checked the list. "Oops, we've forgotten that Kurosaki-san's a male. Well, never mind that; isn't he gay? Besides, the room's spacious with a king-sized bed…"

"Says who?!" She screamed.

"Me." Ichigo dragged her away impatiently. "You don't have to say another thing; it's a truth that everyone knows. Come on, don't worry; I'll let you choose which side to—"

"You're gay?!" Orihime stared at him. "Okay, then explain to me why you've broken seven of that thug's teeth last month when—don't change in front of me! Get into the bathroom!"

"Can't gays choose their targets?" Ichigo's cool as a cucumber. "Alright, I admit that I'm not and I'm a 100% straight. But isn't this saving a lot of trouble for the both of us?" He really detested those women's eyes, like flies staring at a piece of decaying meat.

"I don't care 'bout that! Just put on some pants!" Steam's rising from Orihime's ears like a boiling kettle. "Oh God ~ I'm yet married ~ !"

"Stop screeching like a banshee," He lay on the bed to relax his sore-tired muscles. "I've been changing in front of you in the backstage when there're shows, and why don't think about that at those times?"

You're _not_ wearing only your _boxers_ in front of me at those times!

* * *

><p>After a night with such an encounter, she went to the spot for the shooting with a pair of panda's eyes.<p>

"A titanic fan with the natural sandy wind," Ichigo muttered his complaints. "They really have to scrap off my hair along with my scalp, aren't they?"

Orihime didn't make any reply or retorts, but applying the face powder roughly on his face.

"Hey! L-Lighter!" He coughed from the large puff of choking powder. "You think you're painting a wall? I'm taking your salary for three years!"

"I'll use mascara with mercury compounds and paint you up like Ancient Egyptians to poison you!" Orihime yelled to show her frustrated anger. "I'm changing my room!"

"I'm not even complaining, so why are you?" He took a long swig, lifting his head to glance at the blazing sun. "I'm not even complaining about you drooling on the pillow last night."

Her face flushed red from anger, feeling her vessels pumping at an alarming rate; she's surprised they've yet burst. How could she say it aloud that she felt asleep last night with Ichigo hugging her in his arms?!

Looking at her steaming madness, Ichigo, originally in a foul mood with the burning sunlight, felt his grumpiness ease a bit. She's really cute with this angry face. He's not their typical good guy, he admitted to himself, for he always loved to tease her to craziness.

The grouching Orihime didn't notice Ichigo's gentle-as-liquid-chocolate eyes, but not the photographer. He secretly took a picture of the model in the perfect make-up and captured the stunning lights in his eyes.

"Don't waste anymore spaces of the memory card." He caught the movements and smiled at the photographer. "When can we start? I'm going to be a piece of jerky."

It's a pretty hard and tiring day. They had to wait for the lights for this moment, and had to wait for whoever stars or models to finish their most unreasonable tantrums. A few make-up artists have burst into tears during the tantrums, yet Matsumoto Rangiku's still screaming, puffing out her bosoms and hands on her waist.

"Why aren't you crying, Orihime?" Ichigo lay on the beach. His body's covered in sand, especially his legs with oil to stick the grains more easily. "The other make-up artists have already cried; it makes me kind of embarrassing."

Formerly in her shrilling, Rangiku caught that and shut up with a long face, slightly pale from awkwardness. With a humph, she stormed off.

Yet not Orihime. She replied annoyingly, "I'll be in tears after you've been nicely marinated from the soaking of salty seawater, because I'll be laughing very hard."

They finally called it a day and returned to the hotel until late at night when you couldn't even see their fingers, and that the nodding-off staff nearly burnt the photographer's hair with the lights. Orihime dragged herself onto bed and fell asleep without even getting in time to pull the sheet over.

Ichigo took a nice long bath instead. Just as he's tending to his orange locks, the almost-unnoticeable phone rang. Nearly no one knew his number, but what surprised him more was the displaying caller's number.

"Karin?" He whispered to avoid awaking Orihime, but the surprise's clearly audible in his usual calm tone.

"Damn you, Ichi-nii! What's your phone to you; a decoration or what?!" His younger sister scolded in annoyance. He's cleverly pulled the device away from his ear, but he could hear her from an arm's length. "I've been calling you for the _entire_ afternoon, and you never answered any one of them for _once_, let alone _a second_! Where the heck are you now?!"

"I've gone to the beaches in Thailand for some sceneries…" He tried to sound as appeasing as possible. He knew his sister as well as his hands; it's the best to pacify her as much as possible by letting her get the picture of the situation.

"Why won't I know?" Ichigo pulled his phone away from his ear in time again; Karin's voice echoed through the small black device with the mechanical screeches. "I'm also in Thailand, and so coincidently in the same hotel as you are! I'm asking you _because_ I can't get which room you're in! Get your ass down to the lobby _right now_!"

The loud slapping sound really hurt one's eardrum. This fiery and irritable younger sister…it seemed that she's not changed at all. With a sigh, he slipped out of the room quietly and went to meet his sister.

"Have you really become a fitting model for women's wears?" Albeit younger than him for four years, Karin's really bossy with her imperative tone. She sized him up reprovingly and her beautiful face's distorted with disgust. "Why still in tight-fitting black clothes, after all these decades? You want to be mistaken for a ninja? Oh, gracious! You've got _really_ some dressing sense; _Salvatore Ferragamo_ **(2)**…"

"Alright…" Ichigo raised his hands in defeat as a sign of pacification. The truth he couldn't say to her was that Agnes b. and Coco Chanel never suit a tomboy like her. "Why come to visit me so suddenly? Just coming across, or on purpose?"

"Right by both." Her face settled down with seriousness. "I've just had some business in here done and I needed to find you on my way back. I've heard that you've come here, so I came here since you didn't take the calls." She sighed a bit as she took out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket—she ignored her brother's disapproving frown—and after a while, "Do you know that Dad had a stroke attack, Ichi-nii?"

Ichigo's eyes widened. "When was it?"

"This afternoon." She lit one and breathed out a puff. "If it's not Kon-san telling me by himself, I'd take it as a joke. Could it be all the deeds he's done?" Though she sounded like making fun of it, a bit of the ashes fell from the tip of the cigarette.

"Why aren't you rushing back?" He creased his brows further. "Logically, I need to go back as well, but Oyaji's severed our father-son relationship…"

"I'm no doctor; what's the point in rushing back now?" Karin acted to be calm as usual. "Kon-san's said that Dad's situation's settled, but yet out from the danger zone. Just let the doctors worry about that after spending so much on the medical fees. We've been siblings yet unseen for so long, if I don't come and tell you this face-to-face today…I feel odd."

He knew this tomboyish and rather short-fused sister very well. Comparing to him, the obstinate eldest son who wished only to break away from his father and their kind-hearted youngest sister who'd never hurt a single soul—innocent or not, though unspoken, Karin's love and devotion to their father and the family went beyond anyone's imagination. Despite how discontented she's towards their father's harsh domination and oppression, she still stood by the tyrant's side like a loyal chancellor. No matter it's the "worthless" elder brother or the pure younger sister, she's always shown her supports towards them. He remembered it as if it's only yesterday: when he made his determined resolution to leave that place at fifteen, only Karin, a then tough girl but at a tender age of eleven, got on the same boat with him.

"Is there something wrong, Karin?" This tough and iron-willed wench rarely showed her face of fret; even the news of their father having a stroke wouldn't have that much of an impact on her.

"Something?" She woke up from her stupor. "No! You've been imagining! It's just…with Dad getting a stroke so out of the blue, it makes me kinda uneasy. I've been waiting to end him and claim his life mine; I've been planning it for long, but the deities have made a head start…it kinda pisses me off…"

Ichigo gazed at his beloved sister, tasting the mouth-drying regret. He knew very well that if it's not Karin claiming to take up all the responsibilities of the family affairs, he'll never have the chance to leave the house, for both their father's totalitarianism and his position as the eldest child of the family.

"Or is there anything that's happened to Yuzu?" Though her sweet nature and her intention of not getting involved with the Dark, whoever had control over her would also be a great threat.

"Yuzu's long dead in Columbia years ago." Karin got alerted and snapped. "Don't splutter nonsense, Ichi-nii."

Oh yeah? Then the death-feigning sister's safe and sound.

"If not those, then what's it? You've got something in your mind, Karin; I knew it, so don't lie to me."

"I really don't want to get you involved with the affairs of the Kurosaki House," She sighed. "But if I don't ask for your opinions, I won't feel right. Things aren't going smoothly as I've expected recently, as if some conspiracies are brewing somewhere…" Looking at her elder brother listening intently with a straight face, she released her hold of breath. She's got no more relatives other than him to rely on. "Some of my informants have told me that Kuchiki Byakuya-san's planning to let the right of producing arms for the Far East be held by the Shiba other than us…"

"Hasn't the Shiba House fallen with the death of their head and now powerless in Europe?" Ichigo found it strange. "I know Byakuya; he never has any business dealings with those who've had flaws, though the Shiba used to be excellent arms producers with their famous outstanding explosives. Besides, I've heard that the Shiba House's had contacts with the terrorists. This has gone against Byakuya's principles…"

"That's what I found it weird." Karin thought for a while in silence. "Though you can brave a man with a generous recompense, but I've heard that the Shiba House's had a compromise with some of the South-East countries, which we've long established good terms along with the price. However, the Shiba seemed to have raised some even better conditions. It's exactly the same as what we've planned before!"

"A commercial spy." But who'd dare to do so with a father who manages the house so arbitrarily straight?

"I thought about that too." Karin nodded. "It's just I can't find it out myself. Besides that, the old man's secretive little side-job's getting a little problematic, but I've got no idea what the heck he's achieved in that…"

"Oyaji's still trafficking drugs?" Ichigo scowled, screwing his brows as tightly as he could manage. "You're not sure about that too, Karin?"

"No," She shook her head. "The old man never let me have a slight grip on that business. It's something that only he knows. But it's all fine now; he's laid down, and without his management, those goddamned things will be lost eventually. I'll check the accounts once I return and halt the suspicious flights of the capitals." She chuckled a bit sinisterly. "With the halted funds, they won't get anywhere further!"

"That's not the final way out…" Ichigo considered for a while. "It's the same if the facilities and the ingredients get into the hands of other vile people. If I were you, Karin, I'll check they out and uproot them soundlessly, leaving not a trace behind…"

"I knew you'd do that, Ichi-nii." Karin smiled and after a while, she barked out a merry yet cruel laughter. "After the old man's woken up, that stupid face he'd have when he find out the fall of his Great Drug-Dealing Empire…oh my, how hilarious it'd be! I can't wait to see it!"

"Won't you start trying from Ginrei Kojaku?" Ichigo just thought of it.

"Ginrei Kojaku? What does it have anything to do with Ginrei Kojaku?" Karin's baffled with this information. "That freaky Kurotsuchi Mayuri…he's rather nice deeply in his guts albeit his horrible dressing senses. The House's full of legal and honest businessmen…"

"I'm not talking about him…" He braced himself for his sister's next reaction. "It's the new CEO, Ishida Uryuu."

"Ishida Uryuu's the new CEO of Ginrei Kojaku?" Karin exclaimed. Half of her torso was stuck out of the chair as she nearly jumped out of it and fell down, if it's not her legs making a firm support on the ground. She sat back down in a heavy hump, but she didn't conceal her surprise. "I'm really taken by surprise; I don't even know that! Indeed, it's my idea to invest on Ginrei Kojaku and Dad's taken up the project all by himself. I never knew that he's valued it to this degree and even put his personal secretary in charge of a cosmetic company! Even so, what the hell can a cosmetic company do?"

"They've been sending 'wrong' goods to Ginrei Kojaku."

"Goods? What goods?" Karin's totally confused. "How do you know this much, Ichi-nii?"

"I don't know much either," He sounded restraining. "I only know that they've always been sending amphetamine."

Karin's eyes widened, but this time she recomposed herself quicker. "…I'll get someone into this."

They fell into silence and it's the elder brother who broke it, "What kind of person is Ishida Uryuu?"

"What kind? He's become Dad's personal secretary some years ago, and Dad's really fond of this lad. You know, other than work, Dad loves to collect as much Japanese antiques as possible, especially from the Edo period. That's how the two met with this interest in China. Ishida found him some rare items, and later Dad got him as his personal secretary."

"I'm not asking about that." Ichigo judged and weighed his next words carefully. "I'm asking about his background and how do you think of him."

"I hardly had encounters with him, so I don't have much comments about him." Karin waved her hand like shooing off a bugging fly. "He's 'normal' if you're talking about his background. He's got a Master degree of Visual Arts and a large pool of knowledge in antiques. In the company, he's rather to his place with good relationships with the workers. If you must have me point out any flaws…" Karin scrunched her nose. "His 'men-women relationship' is pretty intricate. Mark it: it's 'men-women relationship'. Has he done anything to you? Did he know…you're the eldest son of the Kurosaki House?"

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't know, but I've never changed my surname, have I?"

Karin did the same. She's been—by her brother's words—a eaglet with its wings started to get strong and then took its father's place as the succeeding ruler. She's a woman who—by her brother's words again—would punch men with the hand they've asked for. Sometimes Ichigo even thought that she's the elder one, not him. She didn't put much about the issues of Ishida Uryuu's messy relationships in her mind, but if it's concerning about her brother…that's a different story.

"If he dared to have devious ideas, tell him to find and speak to me directly." She lay a relieving hand of his arm.

"Beware of this man." Ichigo warned. "Send a word of mind to Kurotsuchi Mayuri as well."

"Leave it to me, Ichi-nii." She won't pay heed to someone who get their position with simply antiques. "I will."

"Ichigo?" Orihime's sleepy voice rang from behind. "Why are you here?"

Swirling his head to look behind him, he found her to be draping a simple jacket over her shoulders, staggering out of the elevator without even wearing any shoes. He frowned. "Why not wearing shoes? Why did you wake up?"

"I'm hungry; we haven't even had dinner, have we?" It's only after she's sat down she found that Ichigo's been with a rather masculine stranger. "Err…I see you have a guest here…I-I'll go somewhere else…"

"She's my younger sister," Ichigo gestured elegantly. "We're finishing our conversation, so it's alright. Karin, this is my make-up artist, Inoue Orihime."

All her sleepiness ran away in an instant. "Oh…it's a pleasure to meet you, Kurosaki-san." For a moment she took this younger woman to be a man! What's with this family and their members; they look nothing what their gender's supposed to be! In details, these siblings looked alike nothing except their scowls, yet it's still the first time she met Ichigo's family.

"Hmm…thinking my sister's a handsome guy and then losing your cool? Such pleasantries…" He teased with a smirk.

"Do you really have to tease me to no end, Kurosaki Ichigo?!" Orihime howled as if it's her natural reflexes. Upon seeing Karin, previously glaring daggers at her elder brother, turn to look at her with a raised brow in amazement, she blushed. "I-I'm sorry…I'm not interrupting anymore. See you later." Without another word, she escaped to the furthest and most isolated corner of the lobby.

"That's her?" Karin measured the far-away blushing Orihime with slight interest. A tiny smile—very similar to her brother's—appeared at the corners of her lips. "The cohabitant I've heard you're living with?"

"Yeah." He took a sip of juice from his glass. "I've not expected that you're so clear of my activities despite I've left the Kurosaki House for so many years, Karin."

Karin's face got a tint of pink on it. "…Actually, you've got a—"

"A guarder by my side? C'mon, Karin; that's not the latest news. If he can or hopes to, Oyaji's even checking on our breathing and heart rate." He answered calmly. "You're saying about Taki, right?"

"You knew? When? I just knew it recently!" Karin cried with worry. "I don't know that Dad's gone this far to arrange this…but why having a cohabitant? What if—?"

"Firstly, I don't want to live alone. Secondly, if I don't get a cohabitant myself, Taki's moving in. Even if she doesn't do so…well, someone random is all I needed to fool Oyaji into believing that I'm absolutely 'normal', so he won't be bugging me."

"But that's not the eyes of just 'someone random'," She teased, taking a drag from her cigarette. However, upon Ichigo's silence, disturbance stirred within her. She frowned, "Don't tell me you're taking it seriously, Ichi-nii? I've heard about the case involving Rukia; I only thought that you're punishing her on purpose because she's throwing another of her unreasonable tantrums, pushing your buttons to no end again…"

"I don't know." Loneliness painted his gorgeous face. "I don't even know what kinds of ideas I ought to have. If I'm the truly-free Kurosaki Ichigo today, I could possibly be thinking about my future. Now? Oyaji's in the sickbed, Byakuya's ideas and directions are vagarious that even I couldn't comprehend, Rukia's still yelling to marry to me…Karin," He put up a bit of puppy eyes and lay a I'm-leaving-to-you hand on her arm. "I'm waiting for you to become the true head and have the weight of the Kurosaki House on your frail shoulders. By that time, I'll truly have no solicitude to it."

"What are you babbling about, Ichi-nii?" She truly held this handsome elder brother dear in her heart. "That's what I should do. I've got to run for the flight." She stood up. "If you have any problems, just call me."

"Karin," Ichigo halted her. "As for the matter with the amphetamine, you better contact with Chad of El Directo. They hold more information than we do as they have close relations with the sources, and now Dad couldn't provide anything for you…"

"Not 'Chad' again!" Karin exclaimed, giving a playful nogging on her brother's head. No matter how old he was, how famous was he a fitting model for women's wears, it's still the same-old brilliant and dashing-out-to-protect Ichi-nii in her heart. "It's _Sado Yasutora_, the Head of El Directo and the man at the helm of the Mexico Empire! Well, thinking about you two being really-close buddies since teenage, you're now probably the only one who could call him 'Chad'; he goes mad whenever someone calls him that. I heard that he's delivered a near-fatal punch to his subordinate for the slightest 'cha' sound for indicating him!" However, what he's suggested was rather valuable. "Nevertheless, I will."

"…Just keep a watchful eye, Karin." Ichigo pulled her into a gentle hug. "After the deaths of Mum and Yuzu, we're the only relatives in the family to rely on in this world."

Karin felt hotness in her eyes and forced a smile. "What's with you being so fussy like an old lady all of a sudden, Ichi-nii? We'll definitely see each other sooner or later. Have you forgotten my initial oath? I never have the intention to walk on the Dark Path for my entire life. After I've put the Kurosaki House in order, I'll be waiting for your comeback."

He wanted to say something, but on a second thought he didn't; it'd only hurt his dear Karin. He only straightened her slightly-ruffled suit jacket and her patting on his shoulder before leaving.

Tides of emotions flooded in his chest as he watched the silhouette of Karin's back disappeared behind the glass doors of the hotel. Even without saying about her intentions out loud, the elder siblings have helped Yuzu to feign her death in order to escape from the Kurosaki House, for she's such a pure and innocent soul that none of her siblings wanted her to be tainted by foul blood. It's the best way to protect her from the World of Darkness. With the strong bond and love he had with his siblings, it's true to say that he also didn't want to leave the place he's grown up in. It broke his heart to step out of that ground, for he's failed to talk his father out of the wrongdoings the old man had done and expostulate him to the path without crimes.

All that's left was Karin, bearing the responsibility and weight of the whole family for a harsh decade. However, this hard-headed maiden's never said a word of resentment about this arrangement and took it all. That's how she showed her unbreakable love for her family. If it's not her, the Kurosaki House would now be in rubbles.

At her silent corner, Orihime's stunned, forgetting the cup of tea at her lips. If she didn't know that those two are siblings…what a beautiful scene from the fairytales! Such harmony was heavenly!

"Stop gawking." She yelped as she didn't realize that Ichigo's gone in front of her. Without another word, he grabbed her by her arm and dragged her away.

"Hey! S-Stop and let me go! I can walk properly on my own, thank you very much!" She cried as she struggled to escape from his clutch. She finally succeeded when they're in the elevator.

"What a harmonious scene just now!" She mumbled to herself with sparkles surrounding her head. "It really made me think of the Prince and the Odalisque! Oh my god ~ !" She's entered into her anime hyper schoolgirl-in-love mode, swinging her arms frantically and screaming with a heart in her mouth. "It's so fantastic to see it with my eyes, and not in a dream! What a shame it's the opposite; such a waste for you both to be the opposite gender—hey!" She rubbed the swelling bump on her head with tearful eyes. "Why did you hit me? That hurts ~ !"

"No salary for you for five years!"

"How can you be so cruel ~ ?!" Orihime wailed.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) I was listening to _MY BLADE, AS MY PRIDE_ when I wrote this. If you don't know the song, go YouTube it. I'm not quite good at fast songs (the refrains), but even I can sing this, so I classify it to be an easy one.**

**(2) Unless you don't know, Japanese say the full name of the brands whereas for Hong Kong people, like me, just Ferragamo would suffice.**

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><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**Ichigo's family finally appears, and it's Karin! Not that I don't like Isshin, but under the circumstances in this fic, he'll be someone quite different, and we'll get to see him sooner or later.**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	6. He's a Demon, Waking up from His Slumber

**Just want to say how I love you if you've left me reviews! ;3**

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><p><strong>He's No Prince; He's a Demon, Waking up from His Slumber.<strong>

The shooting's been running smoothly, for they had a coincidental meeting with the gorgeous weather of Thailand, a wonder which happens every a decade.

The magnificently brilliant sunset clouds weaved out a different scenery every minute, providing a new background. The photographer's nearly gone mad with happiness; under such wonderful evening, every models was sparkling with charm, matched by the wavy sea and the lovely sky. This alluring weather lasted for the whole week, thus the shooting, planned to be for a fortnight, was shortened by a week.

"Ishida-san said," The excited planner exclaimed. "It's okay to stay for the other week if we've finished the shooting early. It's a week of joy and fun! The reward's not changing, and all the enjoyments are paid from the budget!"

The group cheered. The group of young and lovely damsels ran to the sea, having fun with riding the waves. Screams of joy and laughter like wind chimes embellished the tropical island into a paradise.

They're, after all, still young like the sun at about noon; once released from working, they joined together for games. Orihime joined in their games, splashing in the lovely waves, riding the water bikes and even teaming up with Matsumoto Rangiku to play beach volleyball. However, half a day's passed, and Ichigo's nowhere to be seen.

Thinking of it, she broke up from the bunch and started to look for him. After fifteen minutes, she sat in the shallow waters with both her legs kicking the water, sipping the icy-cold Coke.

"Lemme have a drink." Out of the blue, Ichigo emerged from the water, took off his mask and took a swig from the snatched bottle.

"Where've you been to, leaving me behind?" Orihime puffed out her cheeks to show her sulks. "Oh yes; I've just seen Renji with his models in the hotel. Is he having shows too in here?"

"Why bothering to know? I guess they're having something to do here." He's being vague. Orihime now then saw that Ichigo's wearing a diving suit, leaving only his glamorous face uncovered. "Having fun with surfing in the waves? How about diving? I can teach you; it's way interesting than that stupid board."

Tiding over the always-choking period in the beginning, Orihime discovered the other side of the calm and charming blue. Under the surface, the reflected sun looked like a bright sunflower. A dazzling variety of species of fish flocked around them, as if someone's throwing shards of gems in front of their eyes. The odd anemones swayed their tentacles along with the currents of the gentle waves, the starfishes scattered on the seafloor of clean fine sand…it's a paradise. Staying by her side's Ichigo, swimming like an agile merman and pointing her to all the wonderful sceneries, lost in a blink of an eye. She felt like a mermaid herself as well, coursing through this dimension which she believed would never be seen again with him.

First frolicking with the models, then diving with Ichigo; it really wore Orihime out. When she reached to the beach, she couldn't stand well on her own legs, due to her tiredness and the heavy tanks on her back which's dragging her to fall on her butt.

"Watch out!" Ichigo dashed out to hold her still. She flashed him her smile with the effects of the shimmering sea.

A light click and a snap, they swirled their heads around and saw the embarrassed photographer with his camera.

"That's also part of your work?" Ichigo called.

"N-No!" Despite his rather muscular build and tall frame, the caught-red-handed convict blushed. "It's…my personal interest…"

"You've not paid the fees for a model," Ichigo smiled with Orihime still in his arms. "Beware that the agency's going to be mad with it."

The photographer looked at the pair of beauties with love in his eyes. His body ached to take more photos, but his mind told him not to. The model noticed his dilemma and deepened his smile for a fraction.

"You can only use compact cameras, and don't forget to get a copy for me as well."

"O-Of course! Thank you very much!" He grabbed his device and continued. The supermodel's glamour's within his expectation, but with the addition of this pure wench in his arms standing by his side, a whole new radiance's emitting from the couple.

He's sure that it's the radiance of love.

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><p>Orihime stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing her hair into a messy bird's nest. Though he's taken the bath before her, Ichigo's hair showed no signs of being dried at all. Despite that, he only buried his eyes in his copy of <em>King Lear<em>.

"Why aren't you drying your hair?" She dragged the hairdryer and plugged it. "You'll catch a cold!"

"It'll be dry very soon with this hot weather." He didn't want to do all this troublesome stuff.

"You've got the air-con with the lowest temperature again!" She hated people not taking care of themselves. "I'll dry it for you, alright?"

His hair's really fine and soft like silk. It felt like she's weaving the evening sunlight among her fingers. Stroking those locks, Orihime felt a strange sense of fulfilment.

"It's dry enough," A shake of his head, his hair resumed to their supposed position, cascading down to his shoulders. "What about you? Have you dried yours?"

Now that she thought of it, Orihime realized that her hair's still wet, dripping with water droplets. Before she could do anything, Ichigo took the dryer from her and helped her to dry it naturally.

"…You look pretty cute with this short hair." His long slim fingers interlaced among her hair, sending shocks of tipsy feelings over her body. "The travelling-along hairstylist did that?" He didn't say out loud that he liked her long waist-length hair better and thought that cutting them all away to this shortness was a waste.

"Yep," She flashed her white teeth when she smiled. "It looks cool and good, not to mention it's free of charge!"

"You pretty love money, don't you?" He shook his head. "What the point in saving so much money?"

"I want to have my own property, that's why." She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of Ichigo's gentle hands.

"Your own property?" He stopped for a while. "Why? My house's uninhabitable?"

"No, not that," She explained. "Our house's very nice, but it's just that I want to have a house of my own, with a name plate as 'Inoue Orihime'…" She let herself drowned in the waters of memories, sounding dimly sad. "My family…we used to live in a crammed, filthy apartment with two more families including the landlord's. If we opened the fridge for food to cook at our own pleasure, we'd get yelled at by the landlord. Because of this, I've yearned to own a house of mine with my own money for a long time…"

"Alright, if you want to, then buy it." Ichigo stroked her hair. "Well, we can rent it out. As for you, you're still staying in my house like a good child. Besides, I won't let anyone marry you."

"…You're really dictatorial, you know?!"

"You know it only now? Too late," He took a sniff of her locks. "Hmm…what a lovely fragrance. Although I like your long hair better, it can't be helped…"

Orihime's face flushed a new shade of scarlet. "W-What're you doing now?"

"Me? Just finding some 'enjoyment' and 'fun' for myself…" He stroked her hair aside and planted kisses on the nape of her neck.

Orihime fluttered her eyes close and felt her cheeks started to burn. Her heart thumped wayward, as well as the little thoughts that flew all around in her mind. A part of her screamed to push this insolent man away, yet another part had a strong desire for him to carry on, never to stop. Shocks of electricity jabbed every one of her pores, sending shrills down her spine and goose bumps over her skin…

Ichigo reached around and kissed her on the lips and…oh god…umm…what soft lips, like chewing a piece of fudge…

"Hey!" She flew her eyelids open out of the blue as she grabbed the hand that's dipped into her bathrobe which belonged to Ichigo. "What the heck do you think you're doing?!"

"Like I've said, just having some fun…" He nipped her ear lightly. No matter how…how comfortable it was…she hardened her resolve and pushed him away.

"What do you think you're doing, you pervert?!"

"Nah; just thinking of lecturing you about how much fun there'll be within 'depths'. Hmm…as I've thought, your breasts aren't as big as they seem." He blinked like an innocent puppy, even though he's not begging.

"You…scurrilous pervert!" Although it's hard to come across such a fine pervert, it doesn't mean that he's forgivable. "I don't need to know so many about whatever-depths you're talking about! I'm waiting for the consummation—"

"Oh God! You're now 25, Orihime; not only are you still a virgin, but also have a virgin complex?!" He exclaimed with wide eyes. "It's already the 21st century…"

"What does this have anything to do with whichever century?!" She tightened the necklines of her bathrobe before anything's further revealed and he did anything. "What does this do with you, anyway?!"

"…Well then, it's the best I marry you…" He pulled her into his chest and sighed.

A heavy thud and Ichigo's got hit by a where-the-heck-did-it-come-from hard pillow. Orihime leapt far away from him, grabbed a random set of street clothes, rushed into the bathroom and yelled as she got changed, "I really—and I mean _utterly_—abhor men's such irresponsible way of saying things! Marrying me only after such obnoxious thing—seeing me as a _plaything_?! You blue bundle of men…following only what your lower body tells you to do!" She continued to scold for nearly ten minutes, though she's already decently dressed.

"I won't let you get with it!" She pointed at his nose and left the room furiously with a bang on the door. It's really lucky for that poor thing didn't break off its hinges.

Ichigo raked his fingers through his hair to a slightly messier state. Alas…it really took him a great deal of time to tempt this conservative girl—oddly staying so innocently pure in this sinful world—to this state. In the end, he lost her again…

Orihime didn't understand how Ichigo's brain works, but she knew that her cheeks were still burning and her heart's racing like she's just finished a 100m race in 9 seconds. This accursed pervert! He should act like the perfect prince as everyone thought he ought to be!

She stomped only a few rooms across and spotted Matsumoto Rangiku and a few other models. Some smirked while some had a smile which it's the best for them not to have.

"What's happened? Had a squabble with our supermodel? How does it feel to stay in the same room with a gay?" Rangiku asked ambiguously. The others snickered smugly.

"He's a gay _in my ass_." Orihime flushed.

The girls exchanged awed eyes and Rangiku edged closer, "So…how's his…'dancing moves'?"

No matter what a bastard or what a pervert Ichigo was, they had no right to make any low comments about him. After all, she still needed to care about his honourable "faces" as a man.

"So well that I'm in no league to match him!" Orihime's face changed into maroon with slight purple and left with a huff. What're these women thinking; won't they go chit-chatting about other better things, like cosmetics or fashions, but about _making love_?!

It's just she left too quickly that she didn't notice the raging anger and jealousy in their fiery eyes.

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><p>The next day, Orihime's totally forgotten the incident last night, as if nothing's happened.<p>

When it's time to rest, Ichigo nagged her by making a few complaints. However, she turned a cold shoulder towards him, shunning off the noises behind her. After a vain thirty minutes, he only scratched his head and went to bed like an obedient child, staying quiet for the whole time.

As night fell and the sky's adorned with stars, Rangiku jabbed her back and it's then she recalled what's happened between them with slight unpleasantness. As quietly as possible, they crept out of the room, trying not to wake the other person in the room; Orihime knew Ichigo's quite a bear when he wakes up untimely.

"Maa, don't be so gruffly," The smile of a beauty could always disarm anyone's anger. "I'm just a bit envious, I admit it. After all, you're having a fair that transcends both genders all to yourself…"

"It's not all to myself…" Orihime's cheeks got a little pink.

"Now, would you like to have some pickings?" The busty blonde closed an eye and put a finger on her lips. Heck, Orihime knew she's not a lesbian, but her heart's beating so quickly with such a seductive move!

"What pickings?" Though being tempted by a harpy, her vigilance perked.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be so nervous!" Rangiku giggled. "There's a small pub which's caught news that we're here, so they invited us secretly for a show. We don't want the company to know this; we aren't getting much when they learn of this! Besides, our make-up artist's really bad, not to mention his always-babbling mouth. Then I thought, 'How about our Orihime-chan?'" She whispered a tempting number by her ear. "Just help the six of us with some make-up! Oh, _please_ ~ " The other girls flocked around them, begging in a continuous chorus.

Orihime felt her head's throbbing from the nonstop sound waves. "Alright, I get it. So, when and where?"

Rangiku tugged her hand affectionately. "You're our saviour, Orihime-chan! The car's just outside. Let's go!"

After a few minutes of driving, they reached to the pub and entered from the backstage. "Wait here for a moment, Orihime-chan. We're going to greet the manager."

And there Orihime waited in the backstage with just a small lamp with dim light, all alone. She maybe a little stupid, she admitted, but something inside her warned that this poor powder room's just too creepy. The booming beats of the music in the pub passed through the thick curtain into her ears, going straight to her heart. She realized only by now that she's in a foreign country, and their language's something she doesn't know. After ten minutes, the ones she knew have yet returned. She's on tenterhooks and had goose bumps all over her skin. The uneasiness intensified in folds as some people lifted up the curtain to peek at her. She stood up to leave, but to her horror, the backdoor's locked.

Orihime panicked, feeling as if someone's gripping at her throat.

The curtain's pushed aside roughly. She jumped a feet high as she came face-to-face with an equally-surprised Renji.

"Orihime?" He came in front of her with a stride, face's full of disbelief. "You? You've promised to…perform?!"

Perform? Perform what? "…Rangiku-san brought me here, asking me to apply make-up for them…"

He took deep breaths to calm down, but his voice's still edged with nervousness and fear, "Oh, sweet God…where's Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"He's in the hotel. Aren't you staying in the same hotel?" Orihime couldn't make heads or tails of the situation, but she could sense a horrible feeling of some approaching dangers.

He grabbed her arm. "You can't be here! Just come with me!"

"No!" Orihime wanted to break free from his iron grip. Ichigo's warned her over and over again that Renji's no good man. "Where're you bringing me to?"

"Do you have any idea how they introduce today's programme? Tonight's highlight show of this drugs-abusing pub is _raping_! Just follow me if you want to see tomorrow as what you're now!" He dragged Orihime roughly. They dived into the crowd and squeezed their way through. They hid near the bar counter and the door's just right in front of their eyes, only to be heavily guarded.

Renji made a call with trembling hands. "Just pick the call, goddamn it, Kurosaki…I don't want to lose my life because of your woman…Kurosaki?! Your woman's in whatchamacallit-pub—" However, before he's finished, his phone's snatched from him and it crashed into pieces on the other side of the wall.

"Where do you think you're bringing this woman to, Renji? She's the jack of the night," A brawny man spat with an additional kick at Renji. His Japanese ascent's a bit strange, and his muscular torso towered over them. "Hand her over."

"What does he want?" Orihime whimpered behind Renji, trembling all over.

"He asks Renji to hand you over." Stepping out from the man's back was Rangiku with a cold cruel grin. "How foolish you are, Renji, wanting a piece of the one I've brought here." She walked over to Orihime and lay her hand on her cheek, fondling it lovingly. "Poor little jasmine, I'm sorry, but you can't have your gorgeous Prince-Charming to protect you with his back. You're having loads of waiting men to have a go with you tonight! Just come over here like an obedient child, and you won't feel any unnecessary pain. Squeeze your eyes shut and clench your jaws tight, everything's over in minutes! It's just that you'll be breaking all your teeth, that is." She got into a shrilling laughter with the others.

Orihime couldn't believe that they all were the ones that'd played together with her before. They're so full of energy and youth under the warm sun. On the other hand, they looked like ogres with a human hide under such phantom light.

"I'm really out of ideas, miss." Renji shook his head and took her wrist. "I really want to save you, but I don't want to lose my life when saving you…just how unlucky are you…?" Before he finished "you", it happened…

Renji flung Orihime to the other side and he threw himself into the brawny. However, before he could yell at Orihime to run away, a curdling cry of pain escaped from his throat, startling her. She saw the handle of a knife sticking out from Renji's stomach, and the man in question fell onto the ground in slow motion.

"It's starting! The show's beginning!" After all the abused dosages, the guests, now on cloud nine, flocked and by the call crowded around them. Everything's shunned from Orihime's senses; she could neither hear them nor see them. All she knew were her tears trailing silently down her cheeks and she's on her knees, holding Renji in her arms tightly.

"Don't pull it out." He wheezed, like a dying man in his last minutes. "If you do, I'll definitely be a goner. Why aren't you running away?"

"You shouldn't sacrifice yourself because of me," Her tears rained down on his face. "Don't you always…hope…?"

"Hope you to be a prostitute?" Renji forced a smile. "C'mon, lassie. We've been colleagues for more than a year, no matter what. Frankly speaking, I've originally thought you to be my plaything then I can have you sold for a better price, or keeping you as hostage to menace Kurosaki making more money for me; it's just that you're really dumb. Such a dumb but innocently pure jasmine…being in such a murky vat of the modelling industry, but never tainted by even a speck of dirt…" He pressed the bleeding wound as hard as he could, but he found that it's getting difficult for him, for his consciousness' slipping away at an alarming rate. "What a strange thing; even I don't want you to be polluted…such a strange jasmine…"

"The moving scenes end here." The man grinned with madness. "Now, the show's really starting! I, Yammy, shall be this wench's first man!" The guests roared and cheered.

Orihime could guess the situations out pretty much from the surrounding noises, albeit not knowing what did they mean. From the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of a beer bottle and smashed it with the floor. She smiled cruelly as the sharp broken edges gleamed under the flashlights.

"Whoever comes near me gets to have a taste with this fella!" Her soft growl raised up a gale of laughter. It stopped until one of the foolish men who's sprung at her had a few more additional bleeding wounds at his back, screaming in agony, writhing on the floor. It worked. She dragged Renji to lean against the bar counter, clenched her jaws and waved the bottle threateningly. Under the flashlights, her bloodshot eyes glowed like a devil.

"The little hare's cornered by the pack of wolves, and she's now snapping her incisors to scare her enemies away! What an interesting girl!" Yammy laughed. "Anyone who tames this shrew gets to have his way with her first! Tsk, how generous I am today. Lock the doors! Let's see where she could get to!"

Some jumped onto her impatiently, and they're getting bloody wounds on their faces immediately. Her daring guts made these lusty sex beasts take a step back. They cursed as much as they could, but they didn't dare to step forward.

"Damn you, bitch! My hand…!"

"Fuck! How dare you, you lowly prostitute…what have you done to my face!"

She held Renji tightly to her side. Her eyes had a spark of clear-headed sadism. "The one who dares to come closer, shall be the one that falls dead by me!"

"Faugh!" A man with blue hair shoved the men away. His actions and the tattoos at the eyes made Orihime think of a hungry panther. "Such an useless bunch of garbage. You call yourself a man if you can't even take this woman down?!"

"Stop boasting, Grimmjow. Just go get her if you have the guts, otherwise get outta here!" Yammy snapped coldly.

Grimmjow sneered, held a high stool in his hand and threw it at Orihime. A clear snap and a scream from Orihime were resulted, as well as with the broken bottle no longer in her hand.

"Grimmjow! You've broken her neck! What the point in playing with a dead thing?" Some roared their complaints.

"It's just an arm bone! As if you could die because of it!" He grabbed at her collar. "So, you can no longer wave that dangerous thing, huh, woman? Don't worry, though I maybe too huge for you, I'll end things quickly; I don't like dragging things on. You'll totally forget why you're waving that thing in the first place…"

The sharp pain of her wrist was incomparable to the fear and unwillingness in her heart. If only she knew that her first would be like this…she should have let Ichigo have his way last night!

She didn't know how many were pressing her arms and legs down. Her clothes were ripped off from her body like paper. She struggled with all her might, but being cuffed in return. She held her tears back until her jeans were slipping off.

"Ichigo! _Ichigo!_" She cried, though knowing that it's in vain…

"No matter how much you call, he—" Rangiku's been enjoying her struggles that she didn't notice the fist that came towards her. She's sent flying for a few meters before blacking out on the floor.

"Come, if you want to try." His tone's below zero; it's so cold that it could freeze anyone to death. He's dropped his head and his long hair obscured his face from being seen. Holding Grimmjow tightly by his collar, Ichigo skilfully beat him into a bloody pulp with his bare fist. After five full minutes, he sent the bloody giddy lump known as Grimmjow flying to the other side of the pub, and it's yet the end. Ichigo dragged the body back to the centre of the pub, seized the right wrist in his iron grip and held the forefinger like a twig in his slender long ones. "Or, would you like it in this way?"

A sickening cluck and Grimmjow's scream echoed in the pub, as his finger's crooked in a weird angle.

The staff, who've rushed in with clubs as thick as Ichigo's thigh, shuddered uncontrollably in front of the brutal and sinister atmosphere as that man executed his savage tortures. Grimmjow's already been known for his lethal short temper and excessive aggression towards those who dared to be in his way. When he unleashed his anger, he'd destroy anything that came in sight. However, such an impulsive plug-ugly like Grimmjow was now being pushed by another man way more bloodthirsty than him with mere brute force. The staff have thought that they've been living with a highly destructive panther, but now they're facing a merciless beast which wouldn't rest till it's seen enough blood and torture.

"How about another one, hmm?" This time, it's not just one; all were sticking at odd angles like the real twigs of a tree. Just a fling, the right shoulder's dislocated but relocated the moment he hit the wall again. Grimmjow's eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he passed out.

All the men that's pressing Orihime down fled in just a blink. The photographer took off his coat and draped it over Orihime's shivering body, smeared with sweat, tears and all sorts of dirt.

Ichigo finally stood straight and from Orihime's angle, she saw his face through his hair and gasped. It's no longer the gorgeous face that she's known and familiar with. Like usual, it's plainly expressionless, but it's way different. She's sure that it's not because of his draping hair that his eyes were darkened; the sclera itself was _black_ in colour than the usual white. In the horrible black was a blazing golden-yellow iris that warned of grave danger, like a monster's.

Ichigo raised his fist that he's just used to beat Grimmjow to unconsciousness and spotted the blood on his knuckles. He stuck out his tongue and licked them off like a cat cleaning its paw. After no blood's stained on his hand, he covered his mouth with the same hand, but it could hardly hide the wide psychotic grin that's nearly ripping his face into halves. He broke out laughing manically, and it's never a sound that Orihime's imagined; it's so resounding and sonorous that she couldn't believe that it could belong to any man. She couldn't find the Ichigo she knew in this body that belonged to "Kurosaki Ichigo", but a sadistic berserker that taunts his enemies with raw force and strength.

The shrills scared off most of the men, but not Yammy.

"What agility. For you to come in, there's surely your men, otherwise you can't get in with the door locked inside. Who's the guard?!" The muscular giant roared.

A shaking man stumbled forward, sweating profusely. "B-Boss…I'm just having a glimpse—" Just a swing of Yammy's fist and he's down on the floor, unconscious. With a growl, the giant turned his attention on Ichigo.

"Alright, belle, let's have a few rounds, shall we?" He pulled out a dagger from his pocket. It shone with coldness despite the flashing lights as he passed it from his right hand to his left, then back to his right. "C'mon, lovely babe…little _Niña_…"

"Which eye of yours tells you that I'm a female, huh?" Ichigo replied icily. In the split-of-a-second interval, he slipped himself swiftly in the space between Yammy and his dagger, swirled around, hit Yammy's chest with his elbow, kicked the dagger up to the ceiling where it stuck deeply in and slammed the titan's head hard into the floor. The golden-yellow irises gleamed like the warning flashes. "I asked which eye, you swine, huh? Or I'll take it as both?"

He hoisted his hand up and grinned cruelly as he brought the hand down. Yammy gave a bloodcurdling scream as he covered his left eye. A sick squelching sound, and Ichigo's beautiful carefully-maintained long nails—now more like claws to others—were stained with blood as he pulled his fingers out from Yammy's socket.

"Stop right there!" Orihime could finally find her voice back.

"I won't spare him!" Ichigo howled. His eyes blazing like tongues of flames from Hell, dancing wildly, and his face's distorted by his infernal wrath. He raised his hand again and everyone took a step back. They didn't know which would be his next victim, be it still Yammy or this pure little flower. He seemed to have lost his mind to this blood-lusting beast…

Orihime's not scared in the least; or that her anger's overwhelmed her fears. She stormed out and ignored Yammy's pained howl as her heel stepped on his right eye. She stopped right in front of Ichigo and looked straight into his inhuman eyes. "You can return to settle with these dregs anytime you like! Think about Renji! Renji's…he's dying…!" Like a balloon, she burst into tears, along with all the courage she's gathered just now gone in a pop. She hid her face in Ichigo's chest and snaked her arms around to hug him.

Her touch had an effect on him as all of his actions froze. Like a puppet with all the controlling threads severed, his head and raised arms dropped, and his hair hid his face again. He's still standing not because of Orihime holding him; he won't allow him to be weak and fall down in front of the ones he treasured greatly, so his legs could never give up on him, no matter what's happened. He took in a few deep breathes to cool his head down and when he raised his head for his face to be in the light again, it's no longer the sinister face with those predatory eyes, but the same old detached face with cold hard ambers.

"I'll give you quarter…temporarily." It didn't mean that he wouldn't give those men a fierce hard glare that could make them shrink and shiver in fear like now. "Move!"

The staff carried Renji away with a stretcher immediately, and Ichigo left, hugging Orihime tightly in his chest.

* * *

><p>After minutes of checking, the doctor announced that Orihime didn't have any bone broken; it's just a pretty nasty contusion.<p>

Orihime pulled her hand—now as huge as a rugby wrapped in bandages—close to her, still reliving the shock just now again and again in her mind, unable to get rid any of them.

"How stupid you are…such a stupid girl you are…" Like a kid squeezing his precious teddy bear dearly in his arms, Ichigo pulled her into his chest. "How could you believe those women…" Truth be told, even he couldn't believe that those girls had already fallen to this degree of dark evilness.

"How's Renji? How's he now?" She tugged Ichigo's jacket tearfully. But before Ichigo let a pronunciation escape from his lips, Orihime covered her ears. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening! It's all my fault…Renji's surely died ~ "

"Shut the trap up, would you?!" He jerked her hands off and shouted into her ears. "Even he didn't die back then, he'll surely die from your curses! He should really thank his damned lucky stars with none of his organs injured and only a serious blood loss! That jerk will live to see his future with that gallon of blood transfusion!"

"Lower your voice, sir! This is the _hospital_!" At a volume higher than Ichigo's in folds, the nurse shrieked. The two of them immediately zipped their lips up tight as they had the nurse's words echoing in their ears.

"He's alright; he won't die." After a minute, Ichigo murmured softly.

Whining, Orihime threw herself into his chest. "I-I'm…so scared…"

"I know; you're very brave…and such an idiot!" He flicked her forehead lightly. She's so overwhelmed by tonight's events that she's not retorting or pouting or doing anything to show her discontent.

The photographer stood a good distance away from them, watching them nestling against each other. Just as he's about to retreat out of embarrassment, Ichigo halted him. "Say your gratitude. If it's not our photographer—Hisagi-san, right? He's been trailing behind you ever since you lot went out. Even if Renji could save you back then…" He felt a shiver of cold running down his spine as he recalled the scene in the pub. "…Anyway, thank you, Hisagi-san."

With a pair of sore eyes as large as walnuts, Orihime hiccupped, "T-Thank you v-v-very much…"

"Oh, please don't be!" A deep flush adorned the photographer's punk-looking face as he waved both of his hands frantically in denial, "I'm not as courageous as Abarai-san, and all I could do was to make phone calls when Inoue-san's in such grave danger…" He lowered his head, "I'm very helpless, after all…"

"If it's not you who opened the door, we'd never made it in time to be in the rescue. Please accept my deepest gratitude, Hisagi-san."

The photographer looked at such a fair and strong man bowing at him humbly with loving eyes. Compared to his fellow photographers, the name Hisagi Shuuhei doesn't appear in the list of staff often, because he's rather famous for being picky; those that are shot by his camera must be the scarce-in-the-world angelic beauties. Dozens of his fellow colleagues fight for this chance, him included for the sake of chasing after Ichigo's splendid silhouette. He's never thought that such beautiful bravery could be discovered from Orihime. For this, he felt glad for them, as well as a bit sad at the same time. No wonder why they're attracted to each other…

"Well, let me bring you back to the hotel." Hisagi played with the key of his motorbike. "At this late hour, it's really the best for you to travel with someone who know you around to drive you to places, unless you want to experience more 'thrills'…" He chuckled at Orihime as she shrank behind Ichigo in fright and soon trembling in fear as Ichigo shot him a cold glare for saying such a threat to Orihime.

However, after the trip, Ichigo pretty much regretted to have heeded to Hisagi's advice. He himself was pale as a sheet of paper as he brought a half-unconscious puking Orihime back to their room as quickly as possible after thanking the photographer with a bit haste.

God, does the photographer have a dual personality that no one knows of? He's…such a manic once on the bike! If he'd known it, he should take a taxi no matter what, even threatening the driver if he dared to take a wrong turn.

Ichigo swore to himself: he will _never_ ride on anyone's motorbike ever again, no matter their trustworthiness. Oh, but before that, _don't EVER ask him to go overseas again._

* * *

><p>After taking a bath with difficulty, Orihime curled herself up into a ball in Ichigo's embrace, sobbing softly. The more she recalled the devilish events of the night, the more she shook in terror. She pulled herself closer to him, firmed her determination and took the initiative to kiss him jerkily.<p>

"Not tonight." He pressed his lips on her forehead.

"Hey!" She puffed out her cheeks. "You know how hard it's for me to decide to finally offer you my body?!"

"You've just experienced a great shock, and if you do that, you'll surely regret it all after tonight." Ichigo explained. "Besides, I don't want to get another hit by your pillows."

"I knew that you don't want to marry me," She moped. "But I…"

"Who said that I don't want to marry you?" He's still peaceful. "I'm certainly taking you as my wife, otherwise I can't imagine how many husbands you'll need to protect you with such stupidity. I'm marrying you for the sake for my fellow guys, so that they won't have to lose their lives if they travel to Hell with you."

"You…!" Orihime sat up in the bed in a shot, pointing an angry finger at his nose.

"Finish your glass of milk and go to sleep." His hard tone allowed no rebuttal. Spotting the scratch on her forehead, his voice softened again subconsciously. "I'm right here."

After Orihime's fast asleep, Ichigo pulled her into his chest, but his face's horribly dark.

Even though it's not him, someone's _surely_ travelling to Hell.

* * *

><p>Orihime learnt that that drugs-abusing pub's burnt down to nothing only after a few days.<p>

"A masked man rushed in and drove off all the people by firing his guns," The planner said dreamily. "He then burnt the pub down with a torch! Woah…it's so dramatic…"

They went back to Japan after Orihime's hand's better. She noticed that the girls were missing on the plane.

"Where're they?" Although she hates them, she never hoped that they would be hurt.

"Those girls? They've had a good lesson learnt, so I thought they've returned to Japan earlier than we do?" Ichigo smiled gently. Orihime noticed that the grimmer he is, the more breathtaking his smiles are.

Well, I'm in a great mood. I'm not putting my fingers on women with bad intentions? Who said that stupid thing; why not? He believed that those women who rely on their faces for a living could carry on such a life. It's just that they'll have to offer scads to cosmetic surgeons if they wanted to do so.

As for those rape-loving dregs…I think the seabed of Phuket would be a nice place for sleeping.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**Nothing necessary.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**He he…MUA-HA-HA-HA! There's _no way_ not bringing out the Hollow when putting Ichigo in the Dark Path! Yay! It really fits! Hugs from me if you've guessed it out before coming to here!**

**Last but not least, Yachiru's asking for reviews from you guys on my behalf because if you do, she's generously giving her stock of sweets to you!**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	7. A Lesson of Life

**Wow, Chapter 7! It's about the middle of the story, and I thank you for staying with me to this point, as well as the lovely reviews and comments you gave me!**

**Can't wait anymore? Then...!**

* * *

><p><strong>A Lesson of Life: Bad People and Good People.<strong>

Orihime's wrist hurt for a long time, as well as her mental illness; the horrible experience made her have long nights with nightmares.

"I'm not letting others apply make-up for you!" It's the same line whenever Ichigo's leaving for work, like today.

He sighed as he put on his earrings. "Who asked you to have such level of stupidity that you even hurt your precious hands!"

"I've only hurt my _left_ hand, not _both_!" She retorted. "I'm coming with you!"

Ichigo turned around, stared at her for a while and smiled. "You're afraid of staying at home all by yourself, right?" The cold ambers would be filled with honey-coloured sunlight once they're twinkling with beams. Without another word, he rummaged through a drawer, took out a pocket pistol and its holster and put it into her hands gently. She's taken by surprise that a real gun's so heavy.

"This is a gun I've used when I'm a preadolescent." He made quick demonstrations of how to aim and use it. "Bring this with you. If you see strangers in the house, just shoot him."

"B-B-B…But…" She stuttered. "H-How could I…shoot someone randomly?"

"Well, then take it as swinging a wine bottle." He started to put on his shoes. "Haven't you swung a broken bottle valiantly to take on dozens of bestial enemies?"

Orihime cocked her head aside and looked at him suspiciously for minutes. "How come I feel that you're gibing at me?"

"Hmm, takes you really long to realize that; for crying out loud…you're really beyond saving." He shook his head with a smirk.

"Hey!" Now she wanted to blast his head off with the gun in her hands!

However, Ichigo placed his lips swiftly on hers until her legs went jelly and her head's in a swirl. "You'll be safer at home. Be good. I'll be back soon."

As if being hallucinated, she nodded dizzily. After he's closed the door, she woke up in a blink. Damn it, I'm distracted by him again!

And so she sat in the living room all alone, and she had to admit that she's really scared for this horrible silence. How about going out for a walk? However, as she thought of seeing someone else, her fear crept up to a new level. Just a tiny bit of sound could make her shoot up in the air. She checked the doors and windows for more than four times to ensure herself that it's just her imagination. She turned on the volume of the television to a deafening level, but it did no good to tranquilize her fears.

She tried a load lot of different ways, like taking baths, doing the chores to wear herself out—though there's not much to do and that she's polished every exposed surfaces ten times already, but it's still no good to forget the horrible memory. It kept on replaying in her head, and she wondered when she'd be driven crazy.

This went on for the whole day. When the telephone rang in the evening, she pulled out her gun instantly. If she's not forgotten to pull the hammer, the shoot would probably have gone through the device. Idiot! Stupid idiot! She scolded herself repeatedly, not knowing whether not pulling the hammer or trying to shoot the telephone was stupider.

"H-Hello?!" She answered the call with ragged breath.

"Good evening, Inoue-san. I'm Ishida Uryuu."

After she's heard the name, the warning "BAD GUY!" signal flared in her heart. Her voice turned cold immediately. "Good evening."

"…I've heard about the incident in Phuket." His sound's filled with grief instead. "No matter how I say it, I'm afraid you've already had an impression that I'm the instigator, right?"

"…" His words made her tongue-tied. In fact, she's discussed the possibility with Ichigo.

"I couldn't find anything evidences to debate with you." He's very sincere. "Indeed, I…have good feelings towards you and Kurosaki-san. Let's be franker: I want to take in both of you. I know I'm being greedy, but I have no intentions to lay my hands on the people I want. Please, believe in me." He went silent for a while. "Are you still there, Inoue-san?"

"I am." She took in a deep breath. "I've never inspected you for anything…at least I have no solid proof to accuse you. It's just…" When she recall those terrifying events, her eyes grew hot. "I…I'm just scared…very scared…" She finally gave in to her tears and cried.

"I know, and I understand." He soothed with gentle words. "I really wished to call on now, but I think it's better to get Kurosaki-san's consent beforehand. This is my phone number. If you're in any situations, please feel free to give me a call." He gave her numbers and finally eased a little after he's confirmed that Orihime's taken it down. "Don't worry about that you'll be a burden. I'll be looking forward to your calls. I've heard that you also draw?"

"Just something that could never sell." She answered truthfully. "I've initially hoped to draw manga, but the market's shrinking more drastically than I've imagined. I'm now only drawing portraits."

"The manga market **(1)**, huh? Hmm, it's really not very sanguine; they don't quite want the public know that it's starting to decline. Do you want to go on the creative path of doujinshi? What kind of portraits are you drawing?"

It took Orihime back again. First, doujinshi is a rather sub-culture path. Secondly, she's pretty underestimated this man Ishida Uryuu; she's never thought that he'd know this much about the market or the field of artists for the manga culture. "I don't know any of those circles."

"Why not forming a personal circle on your own? You're always free to do so, aren't you?" She could hear his smile on the other side of the phone. "There'll be a doujinshi show organized by Hueco Mundo. Are you interested in going there? I'll be very honoured if Kurosaki-san could come as well, of course."

Doujinshi show, huh…it perked her interest. After hanging up, she evaluated on herself. Her mind's now fogged by this man's words; such an evil man…why's he so sincere to her? He's way harder to interpret than any other horrible men, such as Renji.

Speaking of which, she wondered how the red-head was now.

She fidgeted for a few days. She hoped that she could go to visit him with Ichigo, but he's recently going out early and returning till late that he's now sporting a light shade of dark around his eyes. So it seemed that he's unavailable to accompany her…

She lay her hand on the gun in her pocket, puffed enough courage in her chest and stepped out of the door.

* * *

><p>"Still having a bun for your hand?" Renji's still bedridden, but he's having healthy colours on his face. "I'm almost well to leave, and you're still in such a beaten state…"<p>

Orihime raised a brow as she poked the bandage on his waist with her fingertips, and he squealed like a pig.

"Almost well, huh?" She smiled. "Why're you screaming louder than me the beaten?"

"I wouldn't have saved you if I'd known it!" He shielded his belly as much as he could with his hands.

"No use crying over spilt milk."

Both of them talked and joked. This was the first time that Orihime's so relaxed after the incident; she's been really nervous about being just herself at home. She'd like some company, but Ichigo's extremely busy recently, so it couldn't be helped for him to leave her all alone. It's perhaps that in the moments of putting your lives on the line that strong bonds of friendship would be born easily.

"It seems that you're gravely wounded." He noticed how she's jumped when it's only the nurse entering. "I'm not talking about your hand; that'd heal in time. I'm talking about your heart. You're now very safe in here, don't you know it yourself?"

"I have no idea at all," She's utterly confused. "If it's men, I'll recall those drug-abusing lunatics. If it's women, I'll think of Matsumoto Rangiku, who tried to put me in that situation." Her shoulders dropped frailly. "I seem to have lost faith and confidence in human."

"How could you lose that?" Renji half-joked with her. "I've finally had a bit of good feelings with my life because of you. Have you discussed this matter with Ichigo yet?"

"He just scolded me for being an idiot." She pouted. "I knew that answer for a long time that I don't need him to remind me!"

"Ichigo's been a smart guy all the time since I've known him." Renji sighed heavily. "Perhaps he's too smart that he's guarded himself heavily to get himself know the feeling of being weak. Listen well, Orihime." He grew serious. "There're indeed bad people in this world, and there's one in front of your eyes—you don't have to deny it so quickly; it's a fact. However, there're reasons for every 'bad guy' to form. There're good sides and bad sides of a bad guy, but it's just that the ratio of them is imbalanced. If you couldn't resist to my material enticements, then you'll really fall because of my 'bad'. You may become a MMS, or a bar maid or just a plaything. If you're lucky you may get rid of me, but never the wounds in your heart. However, you're never enticed, so my 'bad' had no influence to you. Therefore, bad guys aren't that scary."

She protested weakly, "But I've no whatever relationships with those girls! Why are they trying to hurt me then?"

"Well, I think it's jealousy." Renji considered for a while. "They've long been dyed to the bones in this murky vat and now way beyond repair. Being in the same vat, but you're never influenced in any bit, so I think they aren't very happy with it." What he didn't tell her was that he's also thought of that as well.

"But," Orihime's still depressed. "I can't be like them because they'll be unhappy…besides, I also find myself very stupid…"

"It's better for you to maintain this silliness," He joked. "I'll be more familiar with it." Upon seeing Orihime's frown, his face hardened again. "However, Orihime, the bad people you've met are way more than good people, right? As I've said, there're indeed bad people in this world, but why living in unhappiness and worrying about that all day long as you resist the help of the good people? It's way better to live happily every day before anything bad falls upon us. Worrying wouldn't make things better, right?"

Orihime screwed her face as she thought. "…Yeah. So you mean that I can presume that everyone is good people?"

"Presume, but not 'be convinced'." Renji accentuated. "Everyone could turn from good to bad, or the opposite. All it depends is the opportunity. Therefore you have to be careful, but not decline, understand? This is a talk with a bad guy's experience."

She grabbed his hand. "I've started to understand a little about your words. To me, you're already a good man. So, can I put this presumption on Ishida Uryuu?" She's eager to go to that doujinshi show, but as for her fear for this man…she couldn't help it but took a step back. Getting a piece of friendly advice from a wise person—Renji, in here—beforehand is a sapient thing to do.

"I can't give you an absolute answer on this question." This time, even his brown eyes were glowing with solemnity, that Orihime sensed even dangers behind that gaze. "This man's as much praised as blamed. Besides, I don't know him very well. Why don't you discuss this with Ichigo? You may get more than adequate information from him than anyone else if he's willing to tell you."

She gazed at him for a while. "Then, are you willing to tell me about what kind of person Ichigo is?"

"No." Renji said crisply. "If I were you, I'd continue to see him as my boss, a supermodel whose beauty transcends his gender, or a person whom I fancy."

"I-I'm not—" Her face's crimson.

"_In all_, whether telling you or not is his own business. If he's willing to tell you, then wait for that day to come. If he's not, then just know that he's a reliable people would be enough." He said sincerely. "To him, it's a deep jagged wound. No matter how good the words you may use, you'd dredge up his pain and reopen that wound anyway. Since this, so you'll have to wait. When he feels like talking, when he's ready to tell you, you'll listen to him. Remember: don't open Pandora's box. You'll just wait until then **(2)**."

She digested Renji's words in her heart, and they indeed had a miraculous power to her as she's not so scared when she's on the way home in the rather-bumpy bus. It's rewarding when talking with him as she gained in sagacity. How did Renji walk on the path to "badness"? Why did he go on this path that earns his living with female bodies? She didn't dare to ask him. That matter was his own "wound".

Once she entered the living room, she spotted Ichigo with his typical scary glacial expression. Just as she wanted to apologize, she discovered that it's not because of her lateness, but Ishida Uryuu who's sitting in the sofa, exposed to that coldness.

"Where have you gone to?" A bit of frost melted away from his charming face when he saw her. "You're late."

"I've gone to visit Renji and had a talk with him. Ishida-san." She nodded gently to greet.

"Is your hand feeling better?" He's caring.

"Thank you for your concern. It's much better now." She sat down carefully beside Ichigo and saw the little presents of a get-well card and a bundle of flowers on the coffee table.

"Please leave, Ishida-san." Ichigo loosened his hard scowl. "Thank you for visiting Orihime. She's alright now, as you can see here. It's getting late, and I think it's time for us to call it a day and rest."

"That's true." The glassed man stood up elegantly. "Especially Orihime with that hurt wrist, it's good for you to rest early." They all went to the front gate of the house and Uryuu climbed into his car. "Ah, yes right, Inoue-san; it's the show the day after tomorrow. Are you interested in it? You're also welcome to come with us, Kurosaki-san."

Although he wanted to refuse, he noticed Orihime dropping her head a little to conceal her eagerness. He's been blaming himself for leaving Orihime all alone in the house with heavy fear as he's occupied by both his job and private life. However, she's yet spoken a word of complaint and kept it all to herself. It pained him to see her depressed, and his heart softened as he learnt what could cheer her up and finally see her sunny smiles again.

"The one organized by Hueco Mundo? I'll be going with Orihime, so you don't have to trouble yourself to bring her." Ichigo said.

"I'll be looking forward to seeing both of you then." He smiled as he pushed his glasses. "After all, I'm also part with the business of doujinshi trading. I'm pretty obligated to go too."

"It's a society of freedom. None can stop you from exposing to publicity with the general public frequenting." The model shrugged. "We'll be arriving in the afternoon, so we'll meet, perhaps."

"Please also bring your artworks along with you that day to the venue, Inoue-san." He started the car. "I'm hoping to see them."

* * *

><p>Ichigo tried to equip himself with the knowledge of doujinshi as much as he could before that day came. In the end, he just didn't get to have the full picture with Orihime's three-hour lecture. Even so, he went to the venue with her with still a lot of unanswered questions flying around in his head. There's no way he'd go back on his words as he's promised to go with her. On the way there, he tried to keep his face straight as not to show the signs of terror that's been brewing ever since they left home. He just knew in his guts that something's bound to happen very soon.<p>

And let him be damn right.

From Orihime's point of view, it's a joyous day. She met with Chizuru again and the two hyper girls bounced around and squealed at whatever perked their interests. As asked by Uryuu, she's brought her drawings and let the people from Chizuru's company, Dangai, to have a look. They're all stunned by the fine work she's done, and when they learnt that it's a professional model—not to mention _super_—standing in front of their eyes all that time, they broke out into shrieks after a full five-minute silence. They gave a least damn to Ichigo's cold dagger-like glares and intimidating expression, dragged him away and asked him to do cosplay with them. When all done, they squealed at the prefect make-ups Orihime's done to bring out the verve of the original character: a coquettishly gorgeous female.

To Ichigo, on the other hand, it's a day of disasters. He's just given a soft grunt of approval to that "cosplaying" thing, and he's nearly fainted at that _huge_ rack of clothes he needed to fit in. Not that he's never seen that amount; heck, he's fitted in way more than those in a single show, but it's all rags and patches cut and made from window curtains, (Orihime scolded him harshly for that comment.) which they called them to be "clothes". He knew that Orihime's make-ups for him were always perfect; he knew it instantly from the girls' gasps. When he opened his eyes to look at the mirror, he felt like fainting for real, caring not a bit about his pride of being the strong. Was that _really_ him in the mirror?! Why did he look like one of the characters he's seen in one of Orihime's video games?! To those otaku, his usual fearsome glare was the symbol of "coolness", "handsomeness" and "charisma", all in one. He's forced to give signatures until his hand's so sore that he could no longer hold the pen properly. When they finally stepped out from the "hellhole", he swore that he'll never participate in any of these masquerades.

"What masquerade?!" Orihime protested. "Cosplaying is just part of the event! Aw ~ there're even peddling booths! There're so many creative mangas by those great artists, and you just turned them a cold shoulder! Then you positioned it as a masquerade…you're an enemy to the anime and manga universe!"

"So what?!" Ichigo retorted as she removed the make-up for him. "Once I stepped close to a booth, they came at me like flies attracted to a piece of rotting meat…"

From Orihime's joyous laughter, he finally discovered that women are way more horrible than man, and the same goes to the general law-abiding people and the ones in the Dark…

* * *

><p>"You're so pathetic, Ichi-nii." Karin frowned. "Just a few women and you're scared of them? And you call yourself a fitting model for women's wears, a career you're having flocks of girls by your sides around the clock?"<p>

"I'll bring you there next time if you want to, Karin." It's Ichigo's turn to scowl; he hardly did so in front of his sisters. "They could never find a suitable person for L. With the sleepy panda eyes you're having now, just give a bit of gel to your hair, you'll do it perfectly even without any make-up."

"Hey! Don't link me up with that dead-eyes sweet-tooth! Firstly, I'm not living like a caveman as you are, so I know Light, L and the others from _Death Note_. Besides, I'm a _girl_ _with boobs_! Call me a tom again and you're dead by my fist!" And Ichigo knew that she's not joking; Karin could throw good punches at anyone—brother or not—if she wishes to.

The two of them have been staying up for the night, looking through all the gathered information done by Karin's subordinates. Although they wanted to skim them through as much as go to sleep, they didn't want to miss out any of the important details. Now, late at three in the silent night at Ichigo's place, both sported bloodshot sleepy eyes. The pot kept screaming nonstop on the stove, and it seemed that they're in desperate need of buying a new jug of coffee. They didn't have to worry about all the commotion that'd wake Orihime up; Ichigo's placed tiny silencers in her room in case that he had to work late at night. However, after all the all-nights for days straight, he's now thinking that there're more caffeine streaming in his veins than his own blood cells.

"It's all normal." Karin rubbed her eyes and yawned loudly; her brother's forbidden any smoking within his territory, and she's now in a terrible mood without a puff. "The accounts of Ginrei Kojaku are so normal that it's like they're fake! They've reported the problem of amphetamine is the supplier's fault, but we've already verified with the supplier that their stocks are normal as well. Ishida Uryuu's hardly suspicious in actions in these few months. To popularize the culture of doujinshi, he's even went to foreign countries in person for meetings, proposing to publish doujinshi of fine quality. I've already talked with Kurotsuchi about it." She nursed at her throbbing temples and shot a glance to her brother. "Do you think it's really the right place to start our investigation, Ichi-nii? It seems that we're now on the side tracks."

Ichigo shrugged as he rested a bit in the sofa. Indeed, these all commanded true hard evidences. Just a few times of delivering wrong goods wouldn't be a proper reason to be dubious of. "How about the news from Chad?" He asked.

"It looks like they're having some sorts of commotions there, but he's noticed me that he doesn't have any relevant information for us." Karin furrowed her brows. "He told us that there's suddenly a man popping out to capture the throne of the Mexico Empire, claiming himself to be 'Hamlet'. It's no wonders; their old man had so many affairs that the hands are now coming back for the helm. With the civil war, how could he split himself to help us? Humph, I've long said that all the men in the world—no offence, Ichi-nii—are idiots without brains, following what their groins tell them to do…" Karin kept on babbling her Theory of Man's Horror, which Ichigo's no stranger to. Without another word, he turned around and came face-to-face with a white ceramic vase that Orihime's spent a load of time on polishing it into a mirror. With that, one could see his reflection on it.

"Oh God, after almost half a month of all-night, my skin's turned rough!" He lamented on his lot. "I couldn't even start to imagine how I could apply make-up. Oh God…"

"Damn it," Karin couldn't take it; oh, her admirable, heroic brother ~ ! "Could you _please_ not bring in your spirit of being a model into your daily life, Ichi-nii? You're a fucking man, not a sissy woman!"

"Then could you _please_ not carry on your O Great Theory of Man's Horror, Karin?" This tactic of violence-for-violence worked pretty well.

The sister sighed and raked her fingers through her messy hair. Being in the Dark Path meant to be accompanied by rough violent men and female prostitutes, and the former came in greater numbers. Being a rough violent man meant trouble, and being a rough violent man without brains to hide his lust is a trouble with pounding headache. She had to hold her fiery tomboyish demeanour to keep those men at bay, otherwise they'd pounce on her if she let her guard down for a moment. Finally, she came to a conclusion: other than her Ichi-nii, Sado-san and some nameable reliable man that the total amount never exceeded ten, all the male species are literally useless—save for leaving seeds for their offspring and another headache to them the women again—and have different degrees of brain damage.

"Aren't you still going to visit Dad?" She began to tidy the files tiredly.

"Did you forget that his heart beat raced wildly the last time I went?" He helped tidying. "I don't want him to die of heart failure albeit my hatred towards him."

"That old man had better not to die so early…" She muttered. "I've yet sought my revenge on him…"

Ichigo only shook his head and stretched his limbs to loosen them.

"Just help me for a few more days," Karin yawned again. "I've yet unearthed Dad's lil' evil side-job. If you don't, it'll get nasty when something do happen."

He nodded with a heavy sigh; he's been very busy these days, and the time he could offer on Orihime were greatly whittled down. However, it's the best for him to be frank.

He knew that covering the truth is nothing far from lying, and he detests it.

"My father's now in hospital because of apoplexy." He told the news to Orihime the next morning. "I've got to help my sister for the time being."

"…The one we've met in Phuket?" She asked, slightly stunned.

"Yep, that wench. Now Oyaji's on the sickbed and even unable to speak. From what I've heard from Karin, he's yet overcome the critical stage…" Well, it's also pretty funny; unable to speak, but still have the strength to throw tempers. The last time he only made half a step into the room, the machine beeped at an alarmingly fast rate and he's being stared at with a pair of furious eyes. "This sister's the one-and-only nearest and dearest I've got now, and I'm not that kind of hard-hearted person who would turn down on his family's requests…what's with the bulging eyes? It's giving me creeps." He frowned disapprovingly.

"You _really_ have a family with a father!" Orihime exclaimed unbelievingly. "I've always thought that you popped out from a rock…hey, why are you hitting me again?! A sinfully gorgeous person should never use violence!"

He's really curious of this damsel's brain construction. "In all, I'll be spending less time at home recently. If you're afraid of being alone, do you want to move to live with Yoruichi-san and Urahara-san for a few days? Other than the fact that they're acting lovey-dovey despite their age, they're very kind and would always welcome anyone with open arms. They won't mind a bit, as I can see that they've taken a liking towards you since you've met last time."

"No, I'll be waiting at home." She said determinedly. "Besides, it doesn't mean that you're not returning, right? Ah, that's right; do you know that Urahara-san's invited us to attend their Iron Wedding Anniversary? By the way…how many years is it for an Iron Wedding Anniversary?"

"Iron, huh? That's six years." Ichigo grinned brightly; it's the rarest sight that Orihime's ever beheld of him. This guy's hardly smiled in front of anyone, let alone _grinning like a sun_. "I don't have time to attend, so please remember to remind me to order a nice present for them, okay?"

"Just six?" They're in their sixties albeit their young appearance, and she's thought that they've been couples for decades. "A late accompany, then? Then whose nursemaid Yoruichi-san was? Your father's, or your mother's?" She's never imagined the life of a Sloane, let alone experienced it firsthand, so she's very curious about the little details with sparkling eyes.

"Mine." Looking at her evident disbelief on her face, he frowned disapprovingly. "What, I can't have a nursemaid myself? Because I'm the firstborn and my mother's very inexperienced about the things of pregnancy, so she's pretty weak when she gave birth to me. I've heard that she's nearly died then, and it's really a miracle that she's still able to give birth to my pair of twin sisters again, but they're the last for her."

Orihime wanted to hear more about his family, but Renji's words suddenly popped out in her mind and made her reign her horses in. So, she focused on their current topic and did the calculations in her mind. "So, Yoruichi-san's already forty-something then…"

Eh ~ ! She's an advanced mother, then?!

"Does being a nursemaid have an age-limit?" He knocked her head. "My family's straight to the rule of breastfeeding to bring up a baby. Yoruichi-san used to be taking care of my grandfather, but at that time, he passed away due to old age and her newborn baby couldn't live through its first day, so she's settled with caring me. All these years," His expression softened. "All that left to be my closest family members—blood-related or not—are Karin and Yoruichi-san."

It's so…legendary! Out of the blue, a storyline appeared in Orihime's mind, and fragments of scenes flashed here and there. Her dream of creating her own manga finally had a chance to come true at this moment.

The title? Let's call it _El Modelo de Magia – the Magic Model_. As for the main character, it's the glorious Ichigo, of course.

Her lips were pulled into a smile.

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><p>On the day of the celebration, the restaurant became boisterous, flooded by the invited guests' merry laughter. After helped by Orihime, in a bright-coloured dress, Yoruichi came out with redder cheeks on her dark-skinned face, and it's not because of the blushers Orihime's used. A smile adorned her kind face, and her topaz-yellow eyes gleamed like a playful kitten. Despite her age with the little wrinkles, in Urahara-san's eyes, she's the most splendid woman in the world.<p>

When being presented with the present, the lady rejected nervously, "Oh, my! Such a wonderful gold necklace is meant to be worn by you young girls, not this old lady…"

"Yoruichi-san, I've searched throughout the entire jewellery shop for this necklace!" After some hand-fights, Orihime finally got to put it around her neck. "The design's called 'the Tracks of Love', and it contains the wish that both of you could make it to the Gold Anniversary! Here, Urahara-san, let me help you!"

"I-It's kind of…embarrassing…" The old man blushed despite having his bucket hat shadowing his face. "Of course, of course…"

The purple-haired lady cried as she saw her refraction in the mirror. "We're at such an old age, Kisuke, but I've never left you any child…not even a girl…"

"What're you talking about, my dear…don't cry on such a good day, it'll turn bad…"

Orihime wiped her tears away tenderly. "Isn't Ichigo like a son to you? Haven't you brought him up to a healthy adult man? He's been very occupied recently, but he's not forgotten you and asked me to get this necklace for you…" Speaking of him, her heart clenched a bit. "He asked me to help you put it on by myself…don't cry, Yoruichi-san…I want to cry if you do so…" Oh, how much I miss him…

"It's alright, it's alright," The lady sniffed and coaxed the girl into calmness. "Shh, Orihime-chan, don't cry anymore. Come, let's try some of Kisuke's own cooking…"

The frequent customers cheered. "Yeah, ol' Kisuke's cooking are great! We hope you have a happy life in the future, Yoruichi-san, and you may even have a baby next year too! Then we can have double parties! Keep it up, ol' Kisuke!"

Not knowing what to reply, Urahara stuttered with a flushed face, "Yes, of course…"

The entire restaurant's in such a ruckus that Orihime thought that it may collapse from the noise. She weaved her way out from the crowd with a bowl of noodles made by the old man himself in her hands. Just as she's finding a quieter spot to sit down and eat, she's startled by a voice, "Over here, Inoue-san! A vacant seat!"

To her shocking surprise, she found that Ishida Uryuu's here too, waving at her.

"You…" Orihime's a bit unbelievable at the sight. "Why're you here too, Ishida-san?" She couldn't imagine that such a finely-clothed man would appear in this plain little shop instead of grand restaurants.

"Well, it's because I love the dishes of this place, which give me a feeling of a caring mother cooking for her beloved children." He smiled as he pushed his glasses. "Come, it's rare to get ol' Urahara-san to cook, and he cooked soba noodles for everyone just for today!"

Orihime took a slurp of it and let out a puff. "I've never seen a wedding anniversary to be so extravagant with all the food and stuff. I believed that it's no birthday today, so why the noodles…?"

"Wedding is a sign of having a long happy life with your other half, like noodles **(3)**, right?" Uryuu answered quietly. "So I don't see any weirdness in eating noodles today. Besides, it's _my_ birthday today."

Orihime blinked. "Erm…happy birthday."

How embarrassing…she's never thought that it's _his _birthday! What could she now give him as a present? She's so deep in thoughts that she dropped her chopsticks. Out of good will, Uryuu bent down to pick them up for her and noticed something bulgy in her pocket as she bent down as well. He raised a brow.

"That shouldn't be a pocket pistol in the pocket at your waist as I've believed to be, right?"

Her hand moved to the holster and screamed in terror in her heart.

Instead of making a noise, Uryuu ate his noodles unhurriedly. With a red face, Orihime also ate in silence. After they've finished their shares, the glassed man stood up, "Come, let's talk in my car."

Orihime hesitated about whether she should go or not and he urged, "Come quickly. If you don't…I'll cry out that you're having a gun with you."

He's really a bad guy! Scrunching up her face, Orihime followed him into his car most unwillingly.

"Give it to me." That action's way more unwilling—well, if there're "more" beyond that of "most".

"A survival gun? Do you know that it's only got one shot? This type of guns is very rare now, and it's used to be part of a secret agent's standard kit. Who gave this to you?" He twisted it around, playing it in his fingers.

"I'm not telling you!" Orihime said, puffing out her cheeks to pout. "Besides, I've no intention to kill anyone. It's just for some sort of self-defence in case I run into bad people."

"If you miss the single shot, what's the use of that? Have you ever practiced your marksmanship?"

She shook her head sadly.

"Let's go then and help you get some practice for that." A step on the accelerator, they whooshed off to the busier business district of the town and arrived at a special shop selling firearms for war games. Without another word, he chose a random BB gun with the price tag clearly indicating a number that made Orihime's jaw drop to the floor and paid for it generously. "Try and practice with it at home. You should go to the Philippines and have a taste of the real things, but I'm sure that your protective guardian would skin me alive if he's here and hears me saying so. Well, just have some simple drills with this toy; it's better than nothing, for you can't fire the real thing at home."

Stunned, she accepted this kind of present, not knowing how to define this man: bad or good. If she couldn't decide on it for weeks, then it's still futile in the short travel back home in his car.

"Please wait me for a few minutes," She said to Uryuu, who's going to drive off after seeing her at the gate. She rushed in to fetch her sketchbook and drew a sketchy portrait of the glassed man. She handed to him shyly. "Well…happy birthday to you, Ishida-san!"

Though stunned, Uryuu recovered quickly and took it, admiring her sunshine smile.

"Thank you for driving me home! See you next time!" The smile never faltered, she waved energetically and finally disappeared behind the front door of the house.

He's deep in thoughts, pushing his glasses, as he looked at the true-to-life sketch. Is this how I look like with this expression? Do I look so sad and unhappy like this?

The more he thought, the more he wanted to rip it apart. However, he didn't know why he couldn't bring himself to do so after a while of hesitation, as he slipped it into his suitcase like some kind of scarce treasure. He just didn't know why, and he didn't want to know why.

Settling his face to a hard expression, he drove off and it required him a lot to focus on the traffic. His thoughts were like a raging sea in his heart.

This could change nothing. Even with Orihime's cheery, radiant attitude, it fell weak for saving someone. It's already too late.

The day for him to rise the curtains…drew closer…closer…

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><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) Same explanation as in Chapter 1.**

**(2) Cookies to those who know who's said this great logic originally! ^^**

**(3) I don't really know about Japanese culture, but in some parts of China, especially in the northern parts, noodles are eaten to celebrate one's birthday for a long life.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**Whoa! Seems that there're a lot of confusions and problems brewing here with the cliffhanger! I assure you that we're reaching to the main points very soon, so I ask for patience from you guys.**

**Before you want to know what's gonna happen, please leave some nice comments and reviews by clicking the attractive blue link below!**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	8. Let the Play…Commence!

**Now that Uryuu's evil intentions are revealed to another level, what'll our golden pair do as things are getting more complicated? Well, let's have fun in this chapter!**

**BTW, thanks to those who've reviewed!**

* * *

><p><strong>Let the Play…Commence!<strong>

It's only when Ichigo read the evening papers, sitting in the backstage, that he learnt of Karin's arrest. All the colours were drained from his face, making his gorgeous face with a heavy, pale make-up to be as white as bone china. The black crinkle-yarn gown he's fitted in made him looked like he's attending a funeral when just a minute ago, he looked like a queen of all the goddesses among the other models.

Orihime's, with her hand fully recovered, tidying the make-up chest when she noticed his strange expression. "Huh? You're not satisfied with this make-up?" She looked at different angles, "I think it's pretty good. Is it that you find the foundation too thick? You look really pale."

"I'm alright." He stood up; he still had his pride at work. He had no idea of who's the enemy, or did that person have any animosity at all. However, choosing between fleeing from the backstage now and being shot on the runway then, he'd prefer the latter; it's only better by a hair's breath. "Orihime, the pistol that I gave you…have you brought it out with you?"

Orihime didn't know why he asked that, but from her experiences, she sensed an approaching danger. "Yes, I have."

"Keep a vigilant eye," Ichigo said softly. "If anything happens, just go without me, but don't go back home; hide at Urahara-san's place for a while. If there's none, then wait for me in here. Once the show's over, we'll go immediately."

It's the supermodel's most splendid show the audience had ever seen, gaining groans of love and hatred from the designers. Models shouldn't put too much of their characters in shows, otherwise they'd dim the glories of their designs, and that when other people wore them, they might find themselves unable to shine as much as the models had. However, Ichigo's staunch will and divine beauty made the designs resplendent, and that none could bring out the same radiance from the same set of clothes.

He's not displaying the designers' classic, but mauling them heavily. After every show, no matter how on top of the world they were for having the supermodel to fit in their designs, they also had an incurable hollow feeling in their hearts.

It's not that Ichigo didn't know that. Normally, he'd be extremely careful not to let his glamour leak out and ruin the shows. It's just his mind's in such a taut state that he couldn't give a damn to it. Under his overwhelming momentum, all the other models, designers and clothes faded into darkness in comparison.

After receiving the round of applauses, he rushed into the backstage. Silence without the sound of a fired gun didn't mean good news; just a piece of rope could also simply finish the mission without making too much of a mess. "Orihime!"

"I'm here!" Pale like he was, she forced herself to be calm and waved at him, a piece of facial cotton in her hand. "What's the matter?"

"Forget about removing it!" He tucked her up. "We're going now!"

"H-Hey! Ichigo! You can't leave without taking off the dress ~ !"

Ignoring the shouts behind him, Ichigo cursed the long train of the gown that kept tripping him as he rushed into the car park. All he wanted was speed, and he didn't have the patience to wait for the elevator.

"Is that our car?" Orihime stared at him breaking the window easily as if it's nothing.

"Of course not." He opened the door successfully. "Just get in already!"

With just a hair clip, the car kicked into life. Orihime found it to be very unreal, as if she's now in a movie.

"Ichigo! We've just stolen someone's car!" She shrieked when she finally realized it as the car whizzed on the road.

He shot her a glance with ill humour. "You've just comprehended that? Perhaps we'll even have to kill someone if necessary!" He's still having the little hat with a fall of black gauze on his black-dyed head, making him look like a widow in black, yet leaking an aura of blood-lusty, murderous intent.

"B-But calm down, Ichigo ~ !" She shrilled an octave higher. "Be careful! We're going the contrary way!"

"No," The tires screeched from the friction as it turned into an alley. "The others are."

When they arrived at the Karakura Hospital, Orihime's legs were trembling vigorously and weak like jelly that she could hardly get off. Picking up the ends of the gown, Ichigo pulled out a gun which he's strapped on his thigh with a strap. "Take out your gun, Orihime. Be careful for not to be discovered."

She held it tightly at her chest and jogged to match his huge strides. She understood what he's going to do when he bent down and gripped the ends of the gown. "Don't tear the ends! The gown's extraordinarily expensive!"

"Shaddap!" The fabric couldn't withstand his strength and it gave away easily. As his shins were exposed after he's torn the train off, he's moving so damn more conveniently. He knew the guards in the hospital were nearly impregnable, so the perils weren't high, but Karin's now inexplicably sent to jail, if they put an end to the apoplectic father and turn the spearhead towards him…that'd spell the end of the Kurosaki House.

If that's the enemy's aim, then his father's like a near-to-end candle, flickering in the winds. He looked at Orihime worriedly. He ought to have left her at a safe place—perhaps with his nursemaid, but as both his father and his make-up artist were fighting on the scales in his heart…he decided to let her stay next to him.

He slipped carefully without a sound from the emergency door into the corridor, reached to his father's special ward and spot the few loyal men guarding the room. He finally let out a held breath.

"Who's there?!" Noticing an awkwardness, some of them rushed out and took different fighting stances. "Freeze!"

"It's me." He finally took off the little hat and revealed his radiance before them.

At that time, Orihime finally caught up with him—climbed, literally—and wheezed heavily to catch her breaths. Oh god…it's good _twelfth floor_! She knew that it's possible for Ichigo to run all the way up without breaking a sweat—both for his athletic abilities and the high adrenaline level he's having now; as much as she's detested her parents, she'd still rush to them as Ichigo had now with the same intensity of anxiety. However, for her to run up to here…that's another story.

"The Young Master?" His father's loyal attendant, Kon, became high-spirited once he spot Ichigo's arrival, which's now raising an uproar in the ward. Just a moment ago, every one of the guards were worrying about their future without their leader. The Young Master's like a strong vernal breeze, blowing away the heavy atmosphere of fear and depressing helplessness that's been brewing around and leaving not a trace behind. "The Young Master's returned!"

"Where's my father?" He asked emotionless as he patted Kon's shoulder. "How's he?"

"The Master's still in the ward…" Kon blew his nose in a piece of tissue and wiped off his agitated tears. "The doctor said that he's passed the critical phrase, though…"

Such a man that even death would be too good for him could live through the critical phrase? A cold, cruel smile appeared on his face as he stepped in.

Kurosaki Isshin used to be the arbitrator of the House with majestic power and prestige, yet now he's lying weak in bed. After all these years, he's aged way more than Ichigo's imagined. Illness has robbed his unyielding life forces away. Once the formerly-agile body collapsed, all that's left was the ancient and limp shell, relying on those advanced machines that's keeping him alive and his faithful subordinates to protect him.

Ichigo sauntered to the bed, enjoying the feeling of looking down at his father—who's always been in the prominent position—for the first time. "Can you hear me, Oyaji?"

"I'm just having a stroke, but I'm yet deaf." His father opened his eyes to a crack. "How's it? It's really thrilling to be a Barbie Doll, huh? Humph, you're both really alike…you and that useless woman. Why weren't you being born as a woman, or turning yourself into a woman?" Although his voice's weak like sighing out the words, he's still having a stubborn will that's very unyielding.

"Which 'useless woman' you're talking about? Taki? I've spared her." Ichigo ignored him and spoke in a plain tone. "I've long told you to do fewer illegal things; isn't this to be what you've deserved for? By the way, I'm happy to see that your heart didn't race too fiercely as I visit you this time." Staring at the man who's inflicted countless pain on him now lying in bed with a feeble body and soul, he didn't even have a tiny sense of ecstasy of having a successful revenge. He's always wondered why his mother Masaki could forgive all the unforgiveable deeds his father's done, such as not even coming to visit her when she's knocking on death's doors or attending her funeral, bringing not a bit of happiness to her.

How much price had he given in exchange just to break away from his father…the day when he's just barely turned fifteen, came back as a memory, distant but still vivid…

_*** Flashback ***_

"_You want to leave the House?" With a willpower strong as the hardest alloy, Isshin's made himself comfortable by sitting like an emperor in the huge bergère. "'Born as a Kurosaki man, die as a Kurosaki ghost.'; don't ever think that you can escape."_

"_I won't escape." His amber eyes shone brightly and strongly. "I've promised Mum that I'll never walk on the same Path of Darkness as you had."_

"_My company's a legitimate enterprise." Isshin crossed his fingers, staring hard at his only son who kept eluding from him as much as he possibly could._

"_None of the legitimate enterprises in the world do drug-dealings." The fierce gaze didn't make him quiver in fear._

_Isshin's a bit surprised; he's expected this handsome and sagacious son of fifteen to be arguing on the matter of arms-production. He's never thought that he would even know his secret side-job. However, how much has he known?_

"_The Enterprise has no such dealings."_

"_That's just your statement." Ichigo stayed peaceful and calm as ever. After the grief of losing his mother at nine, he's never let his emotions take the better of him for once again. The tears have stopped in a screech and over a night, he's all tough and unyielding. "If I were you, Oyaji, I'd quit and let it go before it's too late."_

"_You, or those stupid accusations?"_

"_You can only choose one out of two." Still perfectly calm. "To you, I'll just be a threat from within if you keep me in. Even though Yuzu's dead—to you, she's also 'a piece of lousy rubbish' for being too lenient and soft, you still have Karin to inherit your kingdom. If you truly desire to name me heir to the throne—which means I must stay no matter what—then stop all your drug-dealings at once. I have no intentions to walk on the same path as you have, Oyaji."_

"_I claim my denial of your pointless accusations." Isshin hardened his glare. It's his signature fearsome glare that can even scare the most savage beast, but never his son, also known with a talcum-soft appearance but a diamond-hard will. After minutes of dead silence, the father finally said, "Alright; if you wish to go, then get lost. However, if you dare to lay a hand on the Enterprise…I'll deal with you personally, be you my blood-and-flesh or not."_

"_I understand." He knew that his father's no idiot; he's inherited all of his intelligence, after all. It's better to let it go rather than keeping an untamed venomous snake by his side. However, if he understood his father well, things wouldn't be this simple; and he's damn right._

"_As for the proviso," The glare grew chilly cold. "You can't be a cop, so as a military man."_

"_And?" It'd be too lenient if it's all._

"_You can't be an employee of any companies—the Kurosaki House's no training constitution for them, so you can't be a boss too, in that case. You can—"_

"_Oyaji," Ichigo interrupted him. "Perhaps you should give me a list or something to let me know how many other jobs which I can't do?"_

"_Why not?" Isshin smirked._

* ~ 0 ~ *

_A few days later, Ichigo's presented with a thick stack of list after he's being called. "There're 365 different kinds of jobs in here. As I can see, there's nothing left for you to do than being a beggar. If you can't take that, you can stay."_

_Ichigo flipped the pages. Hmm… "There's always the 366th, Oyaji."_

"_If you leave this ground, then never come back!" This time, Isshin really had his temper triggered. After some more procedures with the father signing the disowning documents as the ending, ten years have passed…_

_*** Flashback ***_

He's never thought that he'll return to this overbearing father's sides in the end.

The weak old man lifted the corners of his mouth to a mocking smirk. "To think that you'd do things to such extreme extents that you're even willing to dress in those sissy clothes just to escape from me…"

"Being a fitting model for women's wears is better than dealing drugs by a hair; at least it won't make me have a stroke and have my child in jail." He said plainly, using the exact tone he's used to talk to his father those years ago.

"Karin's in jail? If that's her fate, so be it. I've also been in there; so what? If Yuzu's still alive…well, such a feeble scum's no better than you!" Agitated, he broke into a feat of coughing. The personal nurse rushed to his side and took out the phlegm stuck in his throat. He panted heavily for a while and looked at his son again with a pair of fierce eyes. "Do you think you could really escape from me that easily, huh?"

"I really had no idea that you'd be so thoughtful that you sent someone disguised as my agent to monitor me 24/7." Ichigo gave his father another of his signature cold yet cruel smile. "You knew that Tatsuki's parents are desperate for fees to get better medical attention for their illness, and you believed that threatening her by cutting the sources of the money would make her swear her full loyalty towards you? You don't really know my best friend since childhood well, Oyaji. She's pledged her constancy and devotion to me long before you knew it, and I've now freed her, in case you've yet realized it."

Yes, despite having a miserable childhood which he's wished he'd never had it, he still made few childhood buddies for himself. Though he and Chad would put their lives on the line for each other, but the brawny Mexican didn't count for it—they met when they're teenagers, as well as Ikkaku and some other named few. The one who could fit all the above requirements was his agent Taki, or properly known as Tatsuki. Her parents sometimes had business with Isshin and would bring her with them, so very naturally, the two closely-aged kids stuck to each other like magnets. Ever since then, they've always watched out for the other, fooled around for a bit when adults weren't looking, and even helped to improve each other's fighting skills as they brawled. It's not long that they even swore with a semi-solemn oath to "devote all they have for the other's sake". Though just as kids, they took it seriously; even up till now, inside the cold façades lay a heart of gold, always springing into action when the other's only in small troubles. It's something that none of the adults knew, or they simply regarded it childishly lame and overlooked or took it way too lightly.

It's reasonable for Isshin's face to darken. "She climbed onto your bed? Hn, I _knew_ that women are untrustworthy. What I've never expected is that you'll be in a place that's completely out of my mind. There're only rubbish-like women." He could still move his hand to grab Ichigo's as hard as he could. "Why did you come? To mock at me as you've wished to all these living years, huh? You're now free! Get lost now! Don't appear before me again!"

The intrepidity that formerly made him cower in fear has all gone; the blow's nothing more than stroking to him. He pried off his father's hand gently. "I came back not because of you. I'm what I am now because Karin's 'saved' me, so I've returned to pay my debt. In fact, I'm also in your debt; it's you who gave me my life, after all, though it's all unwillingly." He turned around, "Let's go, Orihime."

For the first time, Isshin lay his eyes on her and a cruel smile appeared. "This…is the little pariah that Rukia's talked about? What can she do other than being a walking shield for bullets? Hmm…pretty good for a shield, if you ask me."

"…I'm glad that I'm like Mum more than you, Oyaji." Ichigo shook his head without an expression on his glacially gorgeous face. "You've cared too much that you're not the blood-son of the Kurosaki House, Oyaji. You're so afraid that people may say that the adopted would make the prestige of the House collapse, and you've paid all that your life has to maintain it."

"What do you know?!" The old man yelled as much as he could, but it's nothing more than a croaked wheeze. The electrocardiogram started to oscillate vigorously with the irregular beeping. "Get lost from my sight! Such a sissy like you is of no use to me! I'll never tell you anything! The Kurosaki House is better to be in rubbles than fall into your hands!"

Without another word, he left the ward. The guards, originally staying by his father's sides, followed him as if they're his shadows. They acted so naturally as if he's never left in the first place.

* * *

><p>"Where're we going?" Orihime couldn't make heads or tails of it. The two guards were like robots, one minding the traffic and the other staring into the space with a blank face. Ichigo's expression's horribly dark as well, with his scowl deeper than she's ever seen. Strangely, she's not afraid in a single bit, but even rummaging her bag for facial cotton.<p>

"Turn your face to me, Ichigo, so I can remove the make-up for you." He obeyed and she started to remove his eye shadows. "If you don't want me to ask, then I won't. It's just—it's really hard for me to bear it all, but I'll try my best to keep quiet."

Orihime's gentle hands and caring eyes…they made his tightened mind relaxed and even revealed the rare perplexity and weakness.

"Orihime, I've said to marry you…do you remember?" His voice's soft, filled with sadness.

Her face flushed red in a second and dropped her head, replying in a voice softer than a mosquito, "…Ye…Yes…"

"You never gave me your answer."

Oh, good Lord, must he really have to propose in front of so many outsiders? Her face flashed from red to white, glancing at the rear mirror to find that those two were still wearing a blank expression.

"Let me remove all the make-up…I can't answer you when you're so…" Her wipes started to get messy and rude.

"No, huh…?" His melancholy's evident that it wrenched Orihime's heart tightly.

"Yes, Yes! I've even said that I'm willing to offer you my b-body…" Her voice dropped to an octave lower, wishing that she could bite off her tongue since she could see the shoulders of the robots tremble, and it's not because of the bumping car.

"Even though I'm a child from the Dark Path?" His clear ambers looked straight into her smoky-grey glasses.

"So what Rukia's said is true." Frankly told, she's not too surprised.

"…You've guessed it?"

"Otherwise, how do you explain your agility? It's not as simple as you just had practices for a stronger body. And those strange people you're interacting with?" Orihime sighed helplessly. "My dad's a thug; just a local bully who always took jobs to do. I left my home partly because I'm afraid of that kind of darkness…" She fell silent again.

"I'm afraid that I can never severe myself from that world." He's really down, because he wanted to be with her, and without this identity.

"…Do you still remember that you've said, 'my house is your house'?" She lay her tiny hand into his slender one. "I feel like that too, and perhaps…for the rest of my life. Kokudou isn't such a great deal…though I don't like you doing bad things…" Heat rose up from her chest to her neck, her cheeks and her ears, and it's another new low octave. "It's because of you…so overbearing that you don't let me get married…you have to bear the responsibilities…"

He pursed his lips and hugged her tightly. "Yes, I will. I didn't say that I love you, because it's a very irresponsible way of saying. I'll let you know how much I do love you with my actions in the rest of my life."

She smiled, holding the moved tears back. She now felt assured with his words, knowing that he'll stay by her side, no matter what. Even though they're walking straight into Hell, she'll be following him into it as if going to a carnival.

"If that's the case, then I don't have to buy a house now!" She beamed brightly. "Now I can use my savings to renew the kitchen—oh, build it from scrap sounds even better! I've always wanted to buy an all-in-one stove with stronger gas power and a better microwave oven **(1)**! Oh yes, we can also buy new cutlery, pans, utensils…oh yes! The new set of pots they're selling on television looks great…"

"Oh, shut it!" Such a romantic atmosphere a second ago…what's her identity; a romance killer? Before she could protest, he kissed her soundly, disabling her from saying another stupid thing…

* * *

><p>When he saw Karin, he finally eased a little. She looked good, at least outwardly. Karin's eyes were large as saucers when Orihime waved at her merrily and Ichigo told her the news.<p>

"Marry?! What were you two thinking of, bringing some light to my dusky life in jail?!" Her voice's decibel nearly made the device malfunction, as if she's yelling straight towards them through a hole. "What the heck?! I've been thinking that who were those two beautiful ladies that have come to visit me! Once you come here, and you bring me this news?!" Karin furrowed her brows tightly. "What're you doing here, Ichi-nii? You should've just run into hiding! How's the old man? Not dead yet?"

"Passed the critical phrase, but still not too stable. Now you're here, who's taking charge of things other than me?"

"There's _nothing_ worthy to take charge of!" Karin pulled a long face. "Nothing, I tell you! We're all prairie dogs that's driven straight into the traps! The Kurosaki House's no more!"

Ichigo thought for a while, "Actually, I still don't quite get what're your charges…?"

"Charges?" Karin barked a sardonic laugh. "Loads. Defrauding revenues, attempting to bribe administrators, owning arms privately, and they even unearthed a pack of heroin in my room."

"Heroin?!" Ichigo found it extremely unbelievable. It can't be…he grew really pale as he felt like really breaking down on the spot with all the audiences around. He's taken their parents' role in teaching his sisters to distinguish what's good and what's bad so they won't touch such hostile things, and now…she's…! Oh god, all the hard efforts…!

"Have you gone _mad_, Ichi-nii?! I never had those things!" Karin screamed at an octave that cracks appeared on the glasses. "Haven't we not had enough of those abusers in America that I'm trying it myself to test it out?! Besides, I've never forgotten what you've taught me!"

Framing with planted goods. Ichigo scowled as he thought who.

"If you need to know, the list can be as long as the whole country of Japan." Karin groaned and rubbed her tired eyes. "Listen, you have to keep a weather eye, Ichi-nii! You're the only person in the Kurosaki House who can move around freely now! No matter how, you have to keep a low profile and never let anyone to notice any flaws in your actions, okay? Guide the entire House out of this murky world if necessary. Remember: you should understand that your life now means a lot more than you've imagined! It's not only yours when you get married; in fact, you shouldn't drag your belle into this kind of hellhole. By the way, how are you keeping her safe, now that you've led her waist-deep into this mess?"

"She's now my responsibility; I'll keep her by my side always and none can touch her. Don't worry," He smiled gently at the anxious Karin on the other side. "I'll guard the house in your place and I won't let it fall apart. I promise I'll be safe."

Karin stared at him before letting out a weary sigh. "It's pretty like a curse to be born into such a family, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," His fabulous smile deepened, stunning even the cop who came in to tell him and Orihime it's time to leave. "However, it's _time_ to undo it now."

Looking at her brother leading his girl out, Karin frowned and muttered in her heart. If I'm the enemy, I don't have to trouble myself to do in the hard-to-deal-with Ichigo; just point a gun at his wife would be okay. Look at that sticky manner! If anything happened to Orihime, Ichigo would also be so-so. She sighed again, unable to undo the knitted brows.

"Your father doesn't like me, and now also your sister." Uh, being a daughter-in-law in this kind of family is hard.

"Leave Oyaji out of the picture; I have no intention to live with him, anyhow." He said plainly. "As for Karin, it's not she dislikes you; she's just afraid that you'll get into troubles."

Orihime fell silent. All the events have let her grow stronger. She found out that there's even a limit for "fear". When reached to a degree, the intensity would diminish, and she find that she's not that scared, after all.

"Can I have another gun?" She asked. "The one you gave me have only one shot."

"I don't want you turn into a murderer, with hands tainted with blood." Ichigo got serious. "It's a gun for the sake of self-defence. I promise I'll protect you, so don't worry."

She played with the gun with a pout when he's talking on the phone with Chad. The one Ichigo gave her was about the weight of the one Ishida bought for her. She's now quite confident in her marksmanship after practising an hour a day.

Perhaps I can't be as good as Rukia, right? She's a bit disappointed, but being a natural optimist, she's all happy in a minute. I won't be a burden to Ichigo; I'll grow stronger, because I love him.

"Chad's setting out from Mexico tonight." He smiled. "I haven't seen him for years…"

"Chad? He's a Mexican? I can't speak Spanish…"

"Oh, don't worry about it." He said quickly. "He's half-Japanese going by the name Sado Yasutora, who's been living with his Mexican grandfather. I called him Chad because when I first met him in a training camp years ago as teenagers, I've mispronounced his name, and now I'm the only one who's allowed to call him that; you probably can too. Well, I'll tell you the story…"

They packed a few things into a light luggage and got into a luxurious car, departing for the place where Ichigo grew. When they arrived at the front gate, Orihime's eyes almost popped out from sockets with her mouth catching flies. She knew that he came from an abnormally rich family, but she'd never imagined the degree of extravagant splendour. It's such a gargantuan house—no, chateau's the word—that it's _10_ _minutes_ to reach to the main building from the gate _by car_!

"Stop gawking and come in now." Ichigo needed to pull her to proceed into the grand living room with the sparkling classical crystal chandelier above their heads. This…is really a place for human beings to live in?! Everything that came into her eyes were classical furniture and antiques. Every step that she took was soundless on the soft, thick carpet.

Can _anyone_ tell me that it's NOT a dream?!

Another shock came to her—a huge team of black-clad men bowed to them wordlessly. It's something that you could only seen in movies. Orihime froze, "Err…ah…rise…"

"Who do you think you are; Empress Michiko **(2)**?!" Ichigo barked out a laugh, which startled the men more than by Orihime's words. The gorgeous but expressionless Young Master _laughed_?! "Well, just go; thanks for your great work."

Half of the day was filled with shocks as she went into her bedroom. The four-posted bed's so huge that she won't fall onto the floor after a roll. The sheets were so light and soft that she believed that it's the famous Chinese silk. God! There's even a curtain for the bed! Such…terrifying luxury! However, after the initial shock, she felt bored.

It seemed as if the lawyers have devoured Ichigo whole, bone and hair and everything, once he stepped into house for a meeting after another. He's so busy that he didn't even have the time to have dinner with her together. Orihime felt cold and miserable as she lay in the huge bed all by herself. She had no idea of what the designers thought; the husband and the wife are in separate rooms! It's too abnormal.

How I missed our house in the busy noisy streets, with just two storeys and simpler rooms…

She coursed through all the channels and soon grew bored with nothing very interesting. A sudden appearance of Matsumoto Rangiku in one the channels perked her attention. The model's babbling on the scary experience she had of nearly disfigured after being robbed down to rags, which made Orihime thought if the robber she's talking is Ichigo. She scratched her head, believing that he should have totally no interest in her, no matter from what aspects.

Huh…Ichigo, Ichigo…when will you finish the meetings…?

Just as she's about to nod off to sleep, she felt a warm body get into bed, nudging closer to her. Out of half-reflex, she pulled out her gun hidden under the puffy pillows…

"Hey, wait! You wanna be a widow without even getting married into the family?"

All her sleepiness were gone in a blink as she threw her arms around Ichigo, tiredness written clearly on his face but still smiling at her radiantly.

"Hmm…you smell so nice…but I've got only two hours to sleep. I need to meet Chad at the airport…" He let out a heavy sigh with great regret. "I'm afraid that we'll really have to wait after the wedding…"

"Hey!" Orihime smacked his head. "Say that, 'I'm only marrying you because I want to have my own way with you.'! Hey!" She's a second too late; he's already fast asleep.

Alas, I have yet finished my sentence! Still, Orihime put her arms around him. It felt so nice to hug him…and they'll have plenty of time to talk in the future…

However, when she saw that nobody's in bed with her in the next morning, a hollow feeling craved into her heart. Time's really flew by fast. In the past two years they've known each other, she's gotten very used to following Ichigo to wherever he's going to.

She got off the bed lazily and began her exploration of the house. It's so quiet with so few people in here with this size. She found it strange and looked into the kitchen. The soup in the pot was bubbling, but there's no sign of the chief.

"Did you have a good sleep," A black-clad man came up to her. "Inoue-san?"

Orihime's brain started to race. There's such a huge rank of men like him yesterday, and they're resembling each other in many ways. There's next to impossible to tell them apart. However, was he there yesterday? She's an artist, so she's quite sensitive to the tiny details and features of one's appearances…

"The Young Master's returned. Please come with me." He took a step forward, but she noticed his tiny movement to reach into his pocket…she dashed. She knew she's in danger when she heard the whishing of the bullets and caught the smell of gunpowder.

She rushed into the kitchen, locked the door, and just as she's about to dash to the windows…she got tripped.

As she's thought, the chief's lying dead on the floor with eyes wide open. The blood's all clotted and started to turn black, meaning that he's been dead for some time. Her scream got stuck in her throat as she jumped to the wall on the other side, growing sick in her stomach.

What's happened? Why would it be like that?

There's not much time for her to think of so many things; escaping for her life came first. She ushered all her might to open the emergency window; oh, thank God, they've followed all the fire emergency rules with the fire escape chute, though below it were full of men waiting for her.

Okay, now…calm down…keep your head cool, Inoue Orihime. It seemed that they wanted to catch her alive and in a whole piece, otherwise why kept so many trouble? These men, take the one just now as example, could have just shot me dead through the head and save all these troubles. Besides, I still have that single shot with me. If I plan it out well enough, I could still make an escape from this house, and even out of the area, if lucky enough…

Damn, it's been long since she's had her last haircut, and her locks grew fast; in just two months the ear-length hair have already reached to her armpits. Using the G-pen which she's always kept in her pocket at all times as a hairpin, she pulled her hair into a random messy bun. She then took a breath, reached out carefully and descended slowly.

"She's there! I've got her!" Someone yelled as he ran to her.

They still didn't know who's going to catch who, good grief! As she reached to the ground, that man reached out his hand to get her.

"Thank you," In that second's interval of his slight awe, she fired. Damn it, she's missed it! She's planned to shoot the hand with the gun!

"I'm very sorry…I'm so sorry…" She took away his gun and said apologetically to the man, who's now in so much pain that he's rolling around on the ground. "I've just planned to shoot your hand…I'm really sorry! Remember to go to the hospital and have your wound looked after, okay?" After that, she ran across the lawn.

Those men, ordered to catch her, were now in confusion of not knowing to do what. They're ordered not to hurt her a little bit, so they had to use all their willpower to miss their shots by centimetres; they've been trained to have no misses in shooting. However, this strange little belle…saying that her marksmanship's excellent was obviously a lie, but she could still hurt someone, nevertheless. Gradually, they've fallen behind.

Orihime slowly grew tired from running. She needed to rest, but not her chasers. It's expected for men to have such stamina, but never her. She's got to find a way to outrun them if she wanted to leave this place.

Although she's spent most of her time indoors, exploring the villa, it didn't mean that she hadn't have a look of the outdoors. She's been to the balcony of her bedroom for only once on the first day and took only a brief glance, and she's somehow remembered the layout of this place. Geez, she's not an artist for nothing!

Hoping that her memory wouldn't fail her, Orihime took an abrupt turn to the woods; why a place for human to live would have a wood itself was a mystery to her, but it's not time to think over such details; and it's not Hogwarts in the movies. She's grateful that such an absurd thing's saving her. Not caring a bit the surprised cry of the chasers of the change of her course, she ran a little deeper into the woods until she's quite sure that she couldn't hear anyone else other than herself.

Now that she's quite safe, she took the precious time to rest a little. Lucky that she's not wearing heeled shoes but simpler ones, or else she'll have painful blisters that'd hinder her escape. Hiding in the trees, she tried to formulate the easiest shortcut from this woods to the front gate, but her sense of directions was…well, not too good, she had to admit, but time's running out.

She realized that she's run a little too deep into the woods, so she ventured back out a little to the paths, but still hidden well in the shadows of the trees. Good, the men didn't dare to get too deep to here, so she started to walk. After long minutes, with the front gate getting clearer before her eyes, she dashed out, rejoiced. She could have made the last few metres if it's not the crazy choir of barking. She shouldn't have turned around to look; goodness! It's a huge herd of Doberman running towards her, and they've all got white foam at the corners of their mouth with razor-like sharp teeth.

It's all over! Orihime immediately squatted down and hugged her head, whimpering. She'd rather being bitten to death than disfigured by these creatures ~ !

"You'd better stay still, just like that." A voice, unnaturally calm, rang into her ears beyond the ring of dogs. "They could really kill with their bites."

She raised her head to come face to face with Ishida Uryuu. Wearing that fathomless smile, he pushed his glasses, passed through the group of tail-wagging dogs, pulled her up gently and pried the bullet-less gun from her tight fingers. "You're very brave and smart. To me, you're both Aphrodite and Athena at the same time. However, especially right here, there're dogs that are more loyal than any man you can find in this world. Yes, even more than man."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) By the way, Japanese nowadays rarely have microwave ovens in their homes, and hardly use it even if they have one. Strange, when it's practically the _Japanese_ who invented this electronic appliance!**

**(2) Current queen to Emperor Akihito as in 2012.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**Another cliffhanger! Everyone, get ready for the tense coaster ride!**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	9. A Deranged Hamlet

**...Just thanks for reviews. Let's continue...**

* * *

><p><strong>A Deranged Hamlet, a Deranging Play of Delusion.<strong>

"Ichigo will come save me." With one of her hand shackled to the exquisite antique chair, Orihime's forced to sit and wait for her doom to come upon her.

"Perhaps," Uryuu said politely. "Perhaps he's on the road to here?"

"Why do you have to be like this?!" She's angry and scared. "I don't understand! Haven't you been kind and nice to me? You've bought a BB gun for me to practise my marksmanship, you've even given me calls to console me when I was injured! You've brought me to the doujinshi show! Why—"

"Why shackle you? Orihime, dear Orihime…" He shook his head, as if he's reasoning to a child. "You're too smart, yet too easily get caught in troubles. If I don't shackle you, you'd really run around out there and even got shot. It's for your own good. Don't worry; it's all going to end very soon, I promise you…"

"End soon? When?" She's not worried about herself, but she's plagued by the thoughts of whether Ichigo's safe or not.

"After the Prince has his revenge." He smiled and pushed his glasses again with that relaxed and childlike expression. "For this day, the Prince's been enduring all the crucifying pain and torment…" A black-clad man came to them hurriedly and whispered something into his ears.

"The stage's ready? Come, let's go to the ballroom. Oh, no, Orihime, you're not moving." He stroke away a lock of her loose hair from her forehead. "I really love you, you know? Your innocence has the power to purify a man's ink-black heart. After I've taken back what's belonged to me, I'll need you to baptise me. Lift her to the ballroom along with the chair." He got a refined smile on his lips, but to Orihime, he's nowhere far from a lunatic. "Be careful. If I find that there's one hair less than she now has, you're accompanying those corpses in the basement!"

She's then lifted to the ample ballroom with a thundering heart. She cried and nearly jumped off the chair when she saw Ichigo, but her hand's shackled tightly.

"I've said not to let my Fairy Princess get hurt." Uryuu glared coldly as he aimed his gun at the man who's lifting the chair. A bang and a cry of pain, the man's on the floor, hugging his thigh. He's immediately dragged out from the room. "However, the Princess's alright, so count your lucky stars that your life's spared."

Orihime stared as she froze in the chair. If her every move could bring injury to anyone, then it's better for her to stay still as a statue. She only dared to roll her eyeballs to look at Ichigo. Other than the small scratch on his handsome face, he looked perfectly fine, and she finally released her held breath. His hands were locked tightly from behind and stood straight.

"Are you alright, Orihime?" His voice's still calm and peaceful.

"I'm fine." She finally noticed that the one who's locking Ichigo was Kon with a heavily-bruised face! Two superman guards have fallen into a state of being two bundled lumps.

"Kon, how come you…" Orihime didn't know too much about Kon, but she knew that he's someone that her lover trusts. Ichigo's told her that when he's still living under this roof, he and the then-teenager butler had been close. Because the two of them nearly resembled **(1) **each other, Kon sometimes let the boy pretend to be him, giving orders to the servants and doing other things which were kept as secrets of their own. They've shared some of their own little secrets to each other, and when Ichigo's in trouble, Kon would stand up for him as much as possible. When he left the house, Ichigo asked Kon to play his part in the house to look after Karin and keep things in the right track as much as he could. Yet now…

He avoided Orihime's eyes, but his grip on Ichigo never loosened.

"One's loyalty could falter, Orihime." The icy tone made the butler's eyes brim with tears. He tightened his jaws and said nothing.

"I've got something to say about that." Uryuu said as leisurely as ever. "I couldn't bribe this blockhead Kon. However, I'm fortunate that he's stupid enough for not to discover my intentions. Albeit being an idiot, his loyalty's something that I have to compliment about. If I haven't taken his master into custody, God knows how much more efforts I need to spend."

The curtains of the stage in the ballroom were drawn apart slowly. The stage's like the special ward in the hospital, only smaller in size. The electrocardiogram, the machines, even the special nurse were totally the same!

"The special nurse's your subordinate." It dawned upon Ichigo. "No wonder Kon would listen to you. She's probably threatening with a syringe or something in her hand…"

Uryuu pushed his glasses and widened his smile admiringly. "You're really loveable, Ichigo. Yes, indeed; she's already plunged the syringe into the geezer's chest, and just a few centimetres above the heart. A light push…and game over! Her killing skills are as brilliant as her medical skills!"

"You're Oyaji's closest secretary; such things could be arranged easily." Ichigo blurted out a soft chuckle lightly. "You even arranged the appointments of the guards, didn't you?"

"Of course not," He admitted. "If so, I don't have to eliminate those who aren't loyal to me. I hate killing."

"Then…why did you kill that chief?" Orihime dropped her head and started to sob, as she remembered the scene in the kitchen. "There's nothing about loyal or not for him…"

"He dared not to cook for me! It's just because I'm not his master?!" He spat. "I'm the real master of the Kurosaki House! What's the point in leaving that useless trash alive if he doesn't realize that?! The true ruler of the Kurosaki House is me!" He sat in a throne-like chair with a supreme air of dignity, as if he's the emperor.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know that Oyaji had a second wife." Ichigo lifted a corner of his mouth. "Although Oyaji's cruel and iron-hearted, he's faithful to his love for our mother, and I didn't hear from Karin that he's taken in another woman…"

"Was your father truly born into the family of Kurosaki?" Uryuu returned his curtsey to smile. In his eyes were sparks of level-headed craziness. "No, he's not a Kurosaki, just like you three mutts are no Kurosaki. Your father's name ought to be Taniyama **(2) **Isshin, the adopted son of Yamamoto-Genryuusai Shigekuni, who for the sake of keeping his family safe hid his true surname 'Kurosaki'." His smile widened with pride. "I'm truly a Kurosaki, with the blood of Yamamoto-Genryuusai Shigekuni flowing in my veins. Am I right, Mother?"

The doors opened and Ichigo stared with surprise at the walking-in Yoruichi, with her face pale as sheet despite her dark skin. Behind her, Urahara-san also walked in with a gun pointed at his back by Uryuu's man.

"I don't have such a son like you." She muttered, shivering all over.

"Am I your son or not?!" Uryuu snapped as his eyes narrowed to a thin line.

"Yes…yes, indeed! You beastly bugger did come from my belly!" Yoruichi shouted, lowering her head as she avoided to have an eye contact with Ichigo.

"Then, I'm the son of you and who? Don't play any tricks; I know that you pretty love your current husband."

The nursemaid kept trembling. "You…please, I beg you, he's nothing to do with all of this…"

"No worries; I respect you a lot, am I not, Urahara-san? I haven't said a thing when you wanted to retire as the butler of the family and marry my mother, right?"

"No, you didn't." In contrast to his wife, Urahara-san's cool as a cucumber. "Yes, you're indeed the very son of the Great Master, which is no secret to me. However, you can't behave like what you just had to your own mother. It's all decided by the Great Master years ago."

"I can't behave like what to her?" Uryuu yanked the collar of Urahara-san's shirt forcefully. "I'm abandoned by her for twenty-four years, so what do you think I should act to her?!"

"It's the Great Master who said to send you away." Urahara-san's unmoved by violence. "The Kurosaki House's had a successor, and his grandchild's even older than you. He didn't want the ugliness of siblings fighting against each other to appear in the house, and he didn't wish you to take on the Dark Path…Young Master," Despite his life's being threatened, he's still polite and respectful. "On his deathbed, the Great Master's ordered not to let you regain your true surname. He hoped that you'll be loved and happy for the rest of your life, so he sent you to the Ishida, who really love children but didn't have one of their own…"

"Loved and happy?!" Uryuu roared in laughter. "'Getting on their knees' is a better phrase! Do you have _any idea_ what kind of life I'm having?! Everyone's acting all reverent and humble; no one scolded me when I made a huge mistake, and no one's happy for me when I got good grades! It's all fake! I've been living with these counterfeit people for decades, and I couldn't be by my own father's side when he's at his last moments! The entire Kurosaki House ought to be _mine_! I have my own parents and my own family, but I need to act as a honourable parasitic hanger-on of another family?!"

"Oh, stop it…" Yoruichi sobbed bitterly and hiccupped heavily. "It's the Great Master's orders, child. It's your fate…if you're asking whose fault it was, it's mine…I just…had no idea why I fell in love with the Great Master. I've never thought that despite our advanced age, I could still be pregnant…it's all my fault, child! Leave the Young Master and the Master alone, I beg you…please…"

"I will for that geezer," Uryuu stuck his thumb at the old unconscious tyranny on the stage. "You know, Kon-san, I like loyal people. This world's too polluted that even dogs are more loyal than any man you can name of. Can you hear me, mutt? I'm bestowing your master back to you. He's used up much of my fortune, and no worries; I'll continue to pay all the needed medical fees and drag out his feeble existence. Go, repent for the rest of your life that you've handed your Young Master right into my palms…"

Kon rubbed his tears away and sprinted towards the stage. He released his grasp so quickly that Ichigo fell heavily on the floor. He wanted to go back and help him stand, but Uryuu's men have already yanked him up.

"Lighter! Don't hurt my belle!" The glassed man reprimanded harshly. "Even though worthless, it saves me lots of trouble that Kurosaki Yuzu's dead. Kurosaki Karin…? Those charges are numerous enough to keep her in jail for decades long…see, Mother? Am I not generous, huh? I've not done in any of those mutts. As for you, just close the restaurant, move back to the house and sit on the throne of the Empress Dowager. However, Urahara-san, it's the best for you to have a divorce with my Mother. A marriage of the Empress Dowager of the Kurosaki House and a lowly butler…it doesn't sound very good. Don't worry, though; I won't do you apart. You can still come back and be the old butler as you had, and tug into the sheets with my Mother…it's no rarity for such things, right?"

The poor lady sobbed harder. "Please, child…I'll promise you anything you say, anything you ask for…but please let Ichigo go…as well as Orihime-chan. Please…don't hurt them…they've long driven out by the Master…they've got nothing to do with the Kurosaki House. They won't fight with you over anything…"

"Why would I hurt them?" Uryuu stood up and held Orihime's chin in his fingers. "How I love this babe is something I can't put it in proper words. I'm going to take her as my wife. If only Ichigo's also a woman, then gone to Hell are the laws of monogamy. Pity that he's a man with such shrewd personality and sharp reflexes." He shook his head with slight pity. "That requires loads of serious lessons of discipline. Don't worry, you're the most flawless and perfect piece of jewel in the treasure trove that none can resist your charm. You can meet Orihime at times and even spend nights with her…" He tilted his head to think for a while. "If you're obedient, that is."

"If you don't fear to be killed." Ichigo flashed another of his infamous glacial cold smile. "Very well; it's developed to this point of no return, and I've got nothing else to say. You've long known that I'm the eldest born of the Kurosaki House, and you did all sorts of little tricks in Ginrei Kojaku. Why did you bring me for a visit?"

"I wanted to know if the glamorous, sagacious Prince of the Kurosaki could spot out my little failures, and you did." His eyes gleamed with applause as he pushed his glasses admiringly. "I really regret that it's a necessity for me to lock you up."

"I don't understand." Ichigo's confused. "We've checked the bills and accounts to half death. Where've the goods gone to?"

"Have you checked on the investment immigration of Ginrei Kojaku?" Uryuu smiled brightly. "Clever indeed, but not enough time. The company got another branch, which is a drug company, specializing in studying all sorts of drugs, as well as those that make people feel happier." He barked out merry laughs. "Ichigo…are you thinking that 'the bad guys always ruin themselves because of their loud mouths'? You're waiting for the men from El Directo? It's useless, for the mutiny's probably ended with a new captain at the helm." He sat elegantly on the arm of Orihime's chair, caressing her cheek despite her disgust. "This year's _Hamlet_ is shown on the silver screen at the same time in both Japan and Mexico."

Suddenly, behind the doors were muffled gunshots, and the sounds drew closer.

"I'm afraid not." Orihime said as she pulled out the G-pen in her hair out of the blue and stabbed it into the back of Uryuu's hand forcefully. He let out a pained yell and pushed her and the chair together onto the floor. As the men drew closer to surround them, with his handcuffs came undone, Ichigo lunged at Uryuu. At such suddenness, the men with guns were stunned, not knowing what was their next step to do.

"No wonder one of your earrings is missing!" Under such situations, the maniac boomed the room with his laughter. "I'm too negligent!"

Struggling with all her might, Orihime could finally sit properly from the fallen chair. Damn it, she's still locked to the stupid heavy chair. As she saw one of Uryuu's men crept towards the two wrestling men, adrenaline exploded in her veins that with a grunt, she lifted up the chair in the air with her thin arms like a professional weight-lifter and yelled, "Just don't you dare underestimate me! I've studied with a team of sculptors that needed us juniors to lift _concrete_!"

In the split of a second when the stunned man was distracted, she flung the thing onto him with a roar. The chair's smashed into pieces with such force. Although her arms and hands were scrapped, it's undeniable that she's now free.

Her outrageous bravery startled all the captives. In the scene of chaos, Urahara-san slipped away from the gun he's pointed at and with a chop on the man's arm, the gun's loosened from the hand. The old butler sent the weapon flying with a kick. Not giving any attention of that man anymore, he turned around and started to deal with Uryuu's men with martial arts, showing off his stunning agility which contradicted with his age.

Tearfully, Yoruichi-san cursed—if you could call such gentle words as curses—and slammed her handbag at those bastards. Out of the blue, she took out some daggers and threw them at her enemies with ninja-style. All of the projectiles hit their targets as they left different depths of cuts on the men's arms and legs. Since she's the Empress Dowager, no one dared to shoot her down, so they bore with the pain of being beaten by the old lady, whether it's by her heavy handbag or it's by the punches of her fists which astonishingly could snap bones, only if she wished to.

As if adding spices to the mess, the locked doors of the ballroom were broken off from their hinges. New men, led by a brawny dark-skinned man and a woman with light-brown hair, rushed in with weapons ranging from just sticks and clubs to powerful firearms. Noticing the situation, Uryuu's men disregarded the possibilities of shooting either the Empress Dowager or the Fairy Princess as they took their own firearms. Bullets flew around the room.

"Orihime!" She swirled around and saw Ichigo running towards her. She yelped as they collided, but he immediately gathered her in his chest with an arm around her. He ran over to the two newcomers and greeted them with simple nods.

"Yuzu, take care of her and don't let her out of your reaching range." He ordered the woman. Without another word, Ichigo disappeared into the crowd again with the brawny man, who Orihime recognized as Chad as seen from photos.

"Come with me; we'll get to a safe spot." She said, dragging Orihime along with her. After they get a bit far from the battlefield, she smiled sweetly, "Kurosaki Yuzu, the other younger twin sister of the man whom you love whole-heartedly. It's a pleasure to met you in person, Inoue Orihime-san." Though confused, Orihime nodded and they observed the battle.

"Lie down! Lie down!" Chad's majestic voice boomed and echoed in the room. "Spared if you surrender!"

"KILL HIM!" By Uryuu's yelled order, his loyal subordinate pushed all the poisons in the syringe into the senile man's veins immediately. Kon, unable to reach in time, took the whole scene into his eyes and launched himself at the special nurse with a strained cry.

"_Ishida Uryuu!_" Ichigo roared as his gorgeous face's distorted by rage. His ambers started to turn into the terrifying topazes Orihime's seen before. "You're mine!"

"No, it's the other way round." The glassed man said gently as he raised his gun.

"No, stop!" Orihime struggled, broke free from Yuzu's grasps despite her protests and sprinted towards them. All happened in matters of only seconds, but to her it's like slow-forwarding…she didn't know why she's so slow despite her most desperate efforts to dash. The bullet grazed her arm, but it still made its destined journey right into Ichigo's chest.

"_Ichigo!_" She wailed. Right before her eyes, as if a broken branch of peach blossoms in their fullest blooming in the tempest, his picturesque silhouette fell onto the carpet in slow motion as those sparkling ambers disappeared behind closing eyelids.

Ishida Uryuu's slipped away from the room without being noticed.

Orihime didn't care about it, or give a damn to it. She kept her hands pressing on his bleeding wound as she kept calling his name. Blood poured out and stained her sleeves, showing her efforts to be in vain. Ichigo's eyes never opened again as his breathing slowed down gradually. In seconds, even his heart silenced.

She wobbled and blacked out on Ichigo's motionless body.

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><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) Well, not entirely resembling, but imagine Kon to be a around-five-years-older version of Ichigo.**

**(2) In Kanji, it's 谷山, and somehow a play on the different pronunciations of words. The pronunciation of "Black 黒 (_kuro_)" can also be _koku_, which is one of the pronunciations of "Valley 谷 (_tani_)". As for the second Kanji "Mountain 山 (_yama_), it's sort of derived from "lit. Cape 崎 (_saki_)", more correctly to be a rigged ridge or mountain.**

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><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**...BEFORE YOU COME AT ME WITH WEAPONS TO KILL ME, do you see the "Next" button in the bottom right corner? Just click it and see what happens! (Take time to get into safety…)**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	10. The Moment of Lifegiving Hope

**Okay, here's the shortest chapter of the whole fiction, but the most important one…JUST READ IT AND DECIDE IF YOU WANT TO KILL ME OR NOT AFTER THAT!**

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><p><strong>The Days of Life-draining Despair. The Moment of Life-giving Hope.<strong>

"Still not talking?" With the dark sunglasses on his nose all the time, Chad asked in his low voice.

Taki shook her head gravely. Ichigo's death has a great impact on her, and in just a single night, grey hairs could be spotted in the locks of her dark hair and her face sported a few wrinkles. She couldn't tell when she's gradually fallen in love with her apprentice and convict, emitting seductive charms at all times.

She's laughed with him, been in love with him, as well as hated him deeply in the guts. All those feelings of gratitude and resentment were gone with the wind. After losing such a loveable and hateful man, she's at a loss on the contrary. When she's looking after Orihime, she then discovered that her bond with Ichigo hasn't severed through the girl. It's just she's sitting there like a sculpture, neither crying nor speaking for days long.

"Was Ishida Uryuu caught yet?" Taki regretted once the name flashed across her mind. She shouldn't have let that demon meet and get into contact with Ichigo.

"Not yet." Chad's face betrayed no emotions. "He's planned and replayed the whole thing in his mind over and over again for years that it's flawlessly orchestrated accordingly. If he intentionally hides away from us, there's no way to seek and snatch him out from his hole."

With the creak of the door hinges, Orihime's pale face appeared and spoke her first words in days, "I'm going home."

Ignoring others' strong objections and turning down their offers to accompany her, she returned to the place she called "home" with Ichigo.

Realizing that no matter how they tried to convince her it'd all be in vain, Chad said with earnest sincerity, "Please take good care of yourself, Inoue. I strongly believe that both of you'll meet again in some place."

Her eyes were soulless and slack. "If only we can reach to the same 'place'."

Then she lived in the house silently without picking up any phone calls. She just gave short replies to Taki's messages and allowed her in to help her refill the fridge; she didn't go to the supermarket for shopping anymore.

She'd only gone out once, and that's for buying all the necessary tools for drawing, like paper and all sorts of pens. The amount's so enormous that the company offered willingly to give her discounts and deliver the goods for her at the same time. She only accepted the delivery; she didn't quite mind about the costs or discounts. Besides the drawing tools, she also bought a few gym equipments. After that, she locked herself in the house, drawing intently hours after hours. When she grew tired, she silently got onto the treadmill or the stationary bike for some hundred metres, or else practised her marksmanship.

She's secretly kept herself a beautiful Walther PPK, stolen from Kon before she left. The single shot's a special gift for a special someone.

She's expecting, expecting the time when Ishida Uryuu appear before her. Orihime understood clearly that he won't let anyone in the Kurosaki House live for a day longer. He's so full of himself that it's self-sympathy, feeling that he's the prince who's subjected to unfair treatments. Anyone who stands in his way should be slain without mercy. That's why he killed the old monarch of the Kurosaki House, as well as the Dark Prince. He could do nothing to the tough jailed Princess, but he'll surely seek her.

She waited with held breath. Ishida Uryuu…what a poor guy you are. You're sick with an illness known as "delusion" and "revenge". You thought that your blood parents and adoptive parents are being unfair to you, so you're asking us the innocent to repay for your imaginary loss.

Except the gun that she kept by her side at all times, she lived in the house defencelessly. She kept working on the manga she's dreamt of completing, working nonstop for more than ten hours a day as she poured all the memories she's shared with Ichigo into it. The fragmented past used to be honey-sweet, but as the scenes flashed in her mind, she tasted bitterness.

None of the things in Ichigo's room has been moved. Sometimes when she felt like washing the pain away with her torrents of tears, she'd lie on his bed and hid her face into his pillow.

Her tears have grown less than before. Is there even a quota for tears? If the vessel's emptied…what to wash away the tormenting anguish?

Besides the strength of never-ending reminiscing, all of her positive and sunny characters vanished. If asked what's her will of living on, the probable answer would be a dead Ishida Uryuu before her, then leaving for her love with a smile.

However, she seemed to have underestimated a bit of his patience. He's yet popped up as she's about to finish the entire story of _El Modelo de Magia – the Magic Model_, and it's been two months since they've last met. All the men from the Kurosaki House, previously on the alert mode, have all retreated. Even Chad's believed that the man's left Japan.

They're all wrong.

Not only has he come, he even pressed the doorbell to signify his presence. Orihime opened the door wordlessly.

"It's been a while…what a cold day." He greeted merrily as if meeting an old friend. "How're you doing?"

"Still fine." Not speaking for so long, her voice's grown rasp and foreign.

"I've noticed you're staying indoors recently. What've you been doing for leisure?" He rubbed his hands for warmth. "Still drawing?"

She took out her work. "Working on this only."

"Oh gosh…it's so wonderful, as if Ichigo's reincarnated…" He exclaimed as he flipped through the master copy of her manga. "Now that I think of it, it's a pity to kill him."

Orihime smiled gently. Such a delicate jasmine originally, now it's tainted with a dreary beauty. Uryuu admired the frozen smile on that detached face, while struck a great resemblance to the one Ichigo had.

Kurosaki Ichigo's not dead. He left without any offspring, but he surprisingly passed his facial features onto Orihime, a glory that's now radiating from her.

"How about marrying to me, Orihime?" His eyes glinted with avarice like a child yearning for toys. "I'm the one who understands Ichigo's handsomeness and your delicacy the most. You're Ichigo's only successor; and I mean that ruthlessly glamorous fairness. No matter it's a boy or a girl, we can name our firstborn 'Ichigo' **(1)**. You see, life is nothing but a long river, and we're just some of the gene-transmitting water droplets in it. I'm now the only man in the Kurosaki House. Only I have the power to cast the magic spell to bring Ichigo back to life."

"The surname of Ichigo's father ought to be Taniyama." Orihime smiled bleakly. "He's never related to you by blood. None can return the dead from Death, something that's unarguable. As for marrying to you…if you take me as your wife, you're asking for Death to knock on your doors. You'll need to worry that the person next to you in bed will kill you at anytime she wants."

"I'm not disturbed about that." His smile made Orihime felt that his madness' getting acute, as he looked at her earnestly. "You're my Fairy Princess, and I need you to purify my life full of sins. There's no better chance in claiming my life other than being by my side in bed. Please give a good thought to it. I'm not afraid of death, but not getting you."

Indeed, he yearned fervently for this fragile little woman. She's the only one who could only notice his melancholy, him being at loss and insanity. He's framed the drawing she's given him discreetly. The more he looked at the sketch, the more he understood himself, and the more he craved for her.

What could he do, now that she resented him so much? It's never a problem. He's willing to spend his whole life in thawing her frosty heart, flourishing her with all sorts of beauty in this world, until she lay down her hatred. He didn't mind the painful process; it satisfied him to see her having happiness.

"I'll give you my reply after I get changed with some make-up, alright?" She stood up.

"Don't try to escape, Orihime." He looked at her with tender affection. "That brainless brawn Sato's searched for me all over Japan only to retreat in the end. My men's surrounded the entire block, and I'm afraid you won't be able to call."

"If I'm afraid, I won't be staying here all alone." She dropped her eyes a little. "Yes, I've been waiting for you."

With that, she retreated to her own room and fitted herself into the gown which's tail's torn by Ichigo months ago. In numerous sleepless nights, she altered it into a size she could put on, sewing intently, thread by thread. She looked at her reflection and slowly put on make-up on her face.

Come back, Ichigo. I'm waiting for your return. She applied a heavy make-up on her face, reconstructing his glories bit by bit, stroke by stroke.

Please give me the power I need through this armour of make-up. The day of our reunion draws near…

How she missed the days of quiet companion. She's inclined to give up all she had—including her life—only to see Ichigo once more. She hoped to see him sitting in the living room and reading quietly, as well as the gentle glittering glow in his face as he lifted his head to look at her.

It's all going to be over.

It's all going to be over, be it the nightmares, the pain of grief, the longing.

Every night, she found herself woke up from haunting nightmares, sweat covering every inch of her skin. Her heart thumbed so quickly that she felt dizzy, but as she closed her eyes trying to drive away the dizziness, the scene of a falling Ichigo replayed again and again. She would sometimes cry, and how she hoped that when she woke up, Ichigo would be in front of her bed, prying her hands away from her face gently and telling her it's going to be alright…

However, when she did wake up, the cruelty of truth throttled her.

Sighing, she pulled the curtains open to let the moonlight in. It's a new moon today, and its coldness brought peace and serenity to her chaotic emotions. They said the dead becomes the stars in the heavens, so where would Ichigo be? A piece of cloud veiled the silver arch, leaving the stars to shine. It's not as marvellous as Orihime's originally thought to be, and she couldn't help but remember a small flash of memory…

_*** Flashback ***_

"_Take it, though I doubt it'll be of any good." Ichigo handed a plank of wood to Orihime as they're about to leave their house for the Kurosaki Chateau. Taking a moment, she admired the design. Hexagon in shape, it had a severed black new moon behind the clouds_ **(2) **_and on the other side was Ichigo's surname._

"_It's a House Badge that those closely related to the House could own." He explained. "It doesn't have much use than an unreliable way of identification, so this one's probably the last."_

"_Here I thought that it should be a mountain or a cape_ **(3)**_…" She said with a small frown. "Why a moon?"_

"_Who knows?" He shrugged. "I heard from Kon that the designer thought that the moon's like a ninja or an assassin something-like-that in the dark, somehow like us—but I don't agree. He wanted to add a few stars, but rejected the idea as he thought that they looked like tears in the night—something that's totally unwanted for tough members of the House."_

"_Eh? I think that stars are like diamonds…so beautiful…" She mumbled._

"_Anyhow, we need to go, so think about that later." With a small smirk, he flicked on her forehead to see her pout._

_*** Flashback ***_

Hardening her heart and resolves, she walked downstairs to where Uryuu was. The smoky grey eyes and the frostily cold expression made anyone to believe that this was a small-sized Kurosaki Ichigo, the illustrious "El Modelo de Magia".

"This…" In a blink, the room's filled with the stink of sulphur from gunpowder. "Is my answer!"

Just as she triumphed that her hard work's paid off by shooting right into Uryuu's chest, in the next second the gun's flown out of her hand, and her arms were twisted to her back in a slightly-painful position.

"Your marksmanship's getting better. I'm sure that despite the flak vest, I'll still get a terrible bruise." He edged closer to her ear as she seethed. "It's better for you to marry to me, then you'll have loads of chances to do it…"

"You can dream about that in great details as you're in the fifth layer of Hell **(4)**, you scum." A dagger's latched its cold blade on his neck as the glacial voice drummed their ears. "Let go of my wife _right now_. Or you want to die instantly?"

A trickle of blood appeared as the tip bit into Uryuu's neck and he loosened his grip slightly. A troop of men rushed into the living room from all sides and shackled his arms and legs.

Orihime swirled around to understand the situation and her eyes widened as they lay on a particular individual…

…_Ichigo!_

"I'm back." The frost on his face thawed like the fast-forwarded shots in documentaries. His eyes turned from cold hard ambers into liquefied honey in the golden sun. "I've stormed back from the Netherworld…for you, Orihime."

Her legs grew weaker as the man approached her. With a heart-wrenching wail, she closed the tiny space between them with a dash and collided into his chest. The reservoir of tears—which she believed to be dried up—had the gates opened, along with the sentiments she's collected in those two hellish months.

Clear tear droplets rolled out from Ichigo's eyes as he stroke her hair.

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><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) Well, I guess that if it's a boy, then it'll be absolutely the same writing and reading; if a girl, then most likely to be strawberry-related.**

**(2) Yeah, if you've read my other fiction _The Moth Goddess and the Moon Warrior_, you'll realize the badge here is totally the same.**

**(3) I've explained that in the previous chapter about the problem of surnames.**

**(4) It's a well-known Asian myth that there're 18 layers of Hell, but here I'm making a reference to _Bleach the Movie: The Hell Verse_.**

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><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**YES! Now we're going to have a happy ending!**

**Do I still get a beating? Anyway… (Flees for safety…)**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


	11. Though It Didn't Start Well It Ends Well

**Seems that I'm still alive...**

**Well, what're we waiting for? Here's the last chapter!**

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><p><strong>Although It Didn't Start Well, It Ends Well.<strong>

The grand yet dreadfully still Kurosaki Chateau's echoing with deafeningly loud bangs and crashes, as if there's a serial of landmine explosions. After the racket came a rumble of scurrying feet. It took all the men's efforts which they're trained to have to suppress the impulse of doubling over with roaring laughter, as they all witnessed a dishevelled and dusty stumbling-down-the-stairs Ichigo, who could fight and claim victory over a beaten-up Death's body but never the feminine might of his fiancée.

However, Karin—who just got out from jail—and Chad were doubling over with roaring laughter for minutes.

"What? You can't even bring your own woman down?" Karin said though hiccups as she wiped away her streaming tears. "No offence, Ichi-nii, Chad-nii; that's why I say that men are such useless refuses in the world…"

Ichigo couldn't stop his eyes from rolling to the sky. He's grown tired with the matter of Orihime at hand that he couldn't bring himself to stop Karin from babbling her fabulous "Theory of Man's Horror".

"Orihime's still throwing feats?" Chad smiled behind the sunglasses which he's never taken off. "She's still turning a deaf ear to any of your explanations?"

"If I'm willing to face the possibility of dying again, perhaps then I can put everything into a clear explanation as my last words." The orange-top rubbed his temples with a groan. He rushed to stand between his friend and the stairs as the brawn made his way upstairs. "Orihime's already lost her rational mind, Chad. She threatens to shoot those who dare to step into the room!"

Chad kept his smile and placed a calming hand on Ichigo's shoulder. "Since I'm the conductor, she has the right to give me some bullets to smooth away her fury. Don't worry about me." Pushing his friend gently out of the way, he made up the stairs and reach to Orihime's room. Once he knocked lightly on the door, the momentary tranquillity's dissolved by a furious howl.

"IF YOU _DARE_ TO MAKE _ONE STEP_ INSIDE, KUROSAKI ICHIGO, I GRANT YOU AN ABSOLUTE, NON-REVIVABLE DEATH!"

Chad chuckled to himself lightly. "It's me, Sado."

"C-Chad-san?" By his words, Orihime popped her head from the door. Seeing it's really him, she opened the door in embarrassment as she revealed the devastation that's worse than a combined explosion of an atomic bomb and a nuclear bomb. There's hardly a square inch of area to stand with all the scattered broken chips and parts of the vases and chairs. However, Chad's not shaken by the sight. He strode over the objects calmly and sat on the only chair that's survived from being destroyed.

"So, you're still mad with Ichigo?" He said.

The barely halted tears burst out again along with another wave of rage. "Why am I not?! How he dared to hide away from me for so long…he had no idea how hurt and pained I was that I've thought of suicide for numerous times! He didn't _care_ about my thoughts _at all_! Why was I the only one who knew nothing?! He…He's never valued me!"

"It's my proposition for feigning his death." He's still in a state of calmness and with his sunglasses, nobody could read his expressions.

"W-Why?" Orihime's jaw fell.

Heaving a sigh, he started the story.

_*** Flashback ***_

_After Orihime's passed out, everything's still in a mess, but it's getting under control. Despite her horror, Yuzu checked her dear brother's state and pulses. He's slipped into a deep state of unconsciousness, but from the fluttery irregular beats on the wrist, he's still alive. Trying to suppress the trembling of her hands, Yuzu performed all the necessary first-aid as they brought him to her place. Although she's left the family for years, it didn't need much for Yuzu to lend her help, as it concerned about her only brother, held dear in a huge part of her heart. She went out to such great lengths that she looked after and even operated on him personally, being a talented doctor with numerous medical honours._

"_He's extremely lucky that he'll need to thank a galaxy of lucky stars." She said seriously. "The bullet didn't explode. It just stuck between the ribs without bringing any damage to the heart and the lungs. Onii-chan only fell unconscious due to a heavy blood loss, so it's not as bad as we thought to be, but still worth worrying."_

_It occurred to Chad the graze on Orihime's arm. Perhaps it's because of the cushioning that Ichigo could still breathe._

"_Alright, so Onii-chan's not in danger anymore. But what now?" It's a rarity for Yuzu, the sweetest soul among the three siblings, to scowl as hard as her brother did all the time. "That cobra's slithered away from our grip, and he'll make his comeback anytime. Dad's put too much faith in Ishida Uryuu that all his private dirty works are handled by him. His power's reached to a state that we can't turn a blind eye to…"_

_She shared the exactly same feelings towards her father as her other two siblings, though in a less degree, but it still pained her that their father whom they greatly revered as much as hated died because of an injection of poison._

"_And so, Kurosaki Ichigo's dead." Chad lit a cigarette._

"…_To lure the enemy?" Ichigo said in a weak low voice as he just woke up from the operation. "It frightens me not."_

"_You'll be killed at any time if we spread the news of you being alive." Chad said. "Such a GBH requires you bedridden for at least a month. If Yuzu openly claims her protection over you, she'll be placed in jeopardy which you originally wished to get her away from. After all, we're in the light where we couldn't spot the enemy and his doings in the dark."_

"…_Relay a message to Orihime." Ichigo didn't protest anymore. "God knows how much she's cried…"_

"_No."_

"_No?" He struggled to get up. "But Orihime—"_

"_Now, Onii-chan, stay put or you'll tear your wound open." Yuzu said immediately and pushed him back down gently._

"_She's also under surveillance. We couldn't even differentiate our friends and foes after what's happened." Chad analyzed patiently. "Her sadness could make them believe that you're really dead. It sounds cruel to Orihime, but not dangerous. I don't understand the reason behind Ishida Uryuu's persistence on her, but I can assure you that he won't lay a hostile finger on her. If we can observe her every move in details, Ishida Uryuu will surely fall into our trap."_

"…_You're insane!" Ichigo couldn't trust his ears. "You're using a fragile female as some dainty bait!"_

"_If not, all of you will live under haunting threats for the rest of your lives!" Even Chad's temper's triggered, though he couldn't bring himself to flare his full anger on this close intimate. "Besides, Orihime's not as weak as you think! She has enough courage to face her destiny!"_

_They engaged themselves in a hot staring contest, brown locked into brown. After minutes, Ichigo ground his teeth._

"…_Fine!" He grunted. "However, swear that you'll keep Orihime in absolute safety. Say your words!"_

"_Do you not trust me, Ichigo?" Chad blew out a puff of smelly smoke from his cigarette. Upon seeing that the patient wouldn't give up glaring at him, he sighed, "Alright…"_

_*** Flashback ***_

"So, none of you tells me the truth! I'm the only one who knew nothing?!" Orihime's wrath gradually vanished, but the tears of fear still swelled around her eyes. She couldn't believe that these people entered Ichigo's bedroom like the spidery secret agents and had her under their watch for so long without her noticing?!

"Not everyone; it's only me and Ichigo. Whenever he's out for actions, he always had disguises and sunglasses."

After thinking about it thoroughly, Orihime had to admit that it's the only possible move. In the next second, she pouted. "But who's compensating for my tears? All those I've shed could fill several huge reservoirs!"

"Well, I think that Ichigo's willing to compensate with the rest of his life." Chad nearly laughed out. The naïve and innocent girl's finally returned.

"…I'm really sorry, Chad-san. Because of the events in the Kurosaki House, on your side…" Orihime could only now worry about other things. "Ishida Uryuu's said that you're also on the stage of _Hamlet_ at the same time, yet…"

"It's because I'm smarter than Ichigo—or in other words, the 'prince' at our side was way stupider that his actions alerted me at an early stage. Besides, there's a 'spirit' from the Kurosaki House who always help me. The lesson of these incidents tells us that things doesn't always go as planned despite the careful formulations." He smiled. Even though the father's passed away, neither the siblings nor the person in question wished to return to the place which's jailed her for years. She only wished to be the supporting pillar in the shadows, helping them quietly without getting known of her true name. "My bond with the Kurosaki siblings runs deep, and we're destined to be allies for life. Now that I've helped them, they'll wordlessly reach out their help whenever I'm in troubles."

"Me too!" Orihime said determinedly. When she spotted Chad smiling, her cheeriness fell again. "How can you laugh, Chad-san?! You looking down on women's bonds of friendship? I do have some use to you!"

"It's not your determination." He ruffled her hair slightly. "I'm just happy. Perhaps we've been in the Dark Path for so long that we're blind to a girl as pure as you are. Probably it's the reason behind Ishida Uryuu's persistence on you? You're a ray of light to this World of Darkness. I hope that you'll always remain the same. C'mon, Ichigo's waiting for you."

Ichigo's of course happy that he didn't have to bear with Orihime's bullets, but it didn't stop him from having waves of headaches. Orihime's probably been in a state of dread for so long that she always nervously held onto his arm without any special reasons. Her weight hindered him from even walking properly.

"Orihime…!" Ichigo always found that she's placed him in situations with no alternatives. "I won't go away anymore, but at least let me go to deal with the matters I need to do!"

At a distance, Karin heaved a heavy grunting sigh.

"No!" She tightened her arms around his. "I'm following you to wherever you go!"

Both the Kurosaki siblings couldn't make her get loss—and now they both thought that they've grown pathetic that they're afraid of nothing _except_ this appeared-to-be-feeble woman. Chad, the only one who could persuade her, has gone back to Mexico.

"Just let her come!" Karin groaned again. "Otherwise, we'll never be able to leave the doors!"

Ishida Uryuu's put under house arrest in the deserted eastern side of Karakura Town. He's traded all the information on the drug factory and such for his life. Although Chad advocated for his death, the Kurosaki siblings had no intention of dirtying their hands unnecessarily.

"We offered him conditions of exchanging." Karin's insistent. "Because he's being honest, so I'll spare him. He'll be under our watch. If he dares to escape, then I'll show no more mercy. A promise's a promise!"

With the information, they went all over the locations to destroy all the things.

"Really?" Some of the subordinates found it to be a pity. "It's an enormous fortune, boss! Even if you don't sell them, some just will…"

"I have no intention of walking down the same path as my forefathers had. Stop babbling and get on with the work!" Karin let out a heavy sigh and felt that it's a whole new feeling with the weight now lifted from her. "Such filth's something that we've never and will never lay our hands on. Those who dare to do it will lose his hand! Besides, getting our hands away from these things is a way of accumulating fortune of virtues for your descendents **(1)**, understand, you thickheads?!"

"But it's alright to sell firearms?" The men still grumbled.

"It's another story for firearms." She frowned and glared at them. "They mean more to instil fear in people's heart than doing real damage. With us the Kurosaki Enterprise here, none of the Japanese armaments will reach to terrorists. It's also another way of accumulating virtues, don't you see, you all backbone-less pea-brain idiotic losers? From now on, we're a lawful enterprise! Ha, we're making attributes to the world's peace ~ ! Everyone's buying firearms in Japan for jaw-dropping low prices! HA ~ !"

How bold her laugh was; that's the sister he knew. Ichigo grinned at all his sister's fallacious reasons, but Orihime's deep in thoughts.

"What're you thinking?" He stayed by her side as they witnessed the destruction of the last storehouse.

"I'm just thinking what's after that?" Despite being involved with the Kokudou for months, Orihime's not quite used to such a life, full of thrills and excitements. However, she couldn't find any proper words to deny. "You…you still want to continue with a life in the Dark Path?"

"Why would you have such thoughts?" Ichigo glanced at her. "As Karin's acquitted, there's nothing that can relate me to the Kurosaki House anymore."

There're not enough evidence, and it's so messed up that he wondered how these could be done—the bag of heroin turned out to be _flour_, and all the deponents denied of their own testimony.

"Well, I just feel that you're not that happy to be a model…it's such a pity for you to be a fitting model for women's wears only…" She lamented.

"Hey, you're insulting me, a professional." In the flash when he smiled, the out-of-ordinary-fair "El Modelo de Magia" who she's well known of made a crashing comeback. "It's a transition stage in the beginning, but I've grown to like the job that can display your beauty. I'm so gorgeous that everyone who looks at me would gasp in surprise, aren't I?"

…This egomania that's beyond any treatments! Orihime rolled her eyes to the sky. "Yeah, yeah…"

Despite what she said from her mouth, she still loved this egomania with all her heart, as well as the moments of drawing out the different degrees and styles of fabulous glory on his face.

* * *

><p>After everything's settled, they went to register their marriage hand in hand. All they've invited as witnesses were only Renji and Taki—or now preferred by both her and the others to call by her original name, Tatsuki.<p>

"Congratulations." She's devoted herself to be a pious follower of Buddhism **(2)**. After such terrifying experiences, all she really asked for was a life of peaceful quietness, especially when her sick parents could now receive the best treatment Karakura Hospital could provide with the generous sum from an anonymous "donator". "I hope you a long happy life."

On the contrast, Renji's in tears and runny nose; your typical wailing manga character. "I'm so happy ~ " He blew his nose into a piece of tissue paper. "However, the registrar's on the verge of having a mental breakdown; he must have thought 'why the heck would two women come to register'…_ouch!_ Hey, why do you hit me, Ichigo?!"

Back to a simple life in the house of two storeys, Orihime no longer woke up from nightmares, and she inhaled the fresh air without a whiff of sulphur from the gunpowder. However, she's developed a new hobby: she practised her marksmanship every day with enthusiasm.

Whenever he stepped on a dead cockroach which's become victim to be Orihime's target, Ichigo would take his time to say a little prayer for its peace.

* * *

><p>"Alas," Orihime, her sketchbook in hands with a sketch of Ichigo in progress, said. "What happens if you age? Models have to retire really early; as early as thirty! By the way, you're turning twenty-six, right? When the time comes that the foundation could no longer conceal your wrinkles or it cracks, you'll still stand in the flashlights and go down the runway?"<p>

"Well," He's in a comfortable lying position in the sofa with another Shakespeare's—this time _The London Prodigal_. "Don't fret 'bout that. My beauty lasts till I'm mid-forty. However, I should retreat to be a bookstore owner when thirty. Otherwise, when I'm always known as the 'Number One Supermodel', then what about women's faces and honours?"

Orihime narrowed her eyes. This egomania…he's incurable for the rest of his life. "On their heads, naturally."

Ichigo chuckled. The long fans of eyelashes casted an alluring shadow on his peachy cheeks, along with the glossy full lips, casting an attractive charm on her. He turned his eyes on her, and just as the first time she looked into them, they're soul-pulling ambers. They remained staring at each other in a moment of silence.

"Come." His voice rasp, but full of bedevilment.

She sat down quietly beside him and placed her lips on his gently. "S…So tasty…"

"Hmm…?" He flipped themselves over and pressed her under him, sucking her neck greedily. "If I open a bookstore, what about you, Hime? Still be an make-up artist? I ban you from applying make-up for others."

"You…You're so domineering…!" Orihime panted a little. "I…I want to continue…drawing…"

"What; manga?" Her creation's only published 1000 copies, and the money came from her wallet. Once it's on sale, all the copies were sold instantly. Kurotsuchi called her thrice a day begging for more, but she didn't have any interest in it.

"No…" This time, she didn't stop him from undoing her buttons. "…You."

"I'll turn old." Though he's reluctant to admit it, but it's the Circle of Life, Nature's greatest law.

"That's better. A frozen beauty is boring, but with changes…" Her cheeks flushed and wormed her arms around him. "If you're a woman, you're Aphrodite. Your arrogance…narcissism…your soul and flesh…they all are gorgeous. My source material remains the same…you, and only you."

Their appendages got entangled in the sofa, turning the chills of fore-winter into the warmth of mid-spring. They've forgotten the curtains, but there's just the serene moon and the stars, gazing as they wondered why the love of these short-lived creatures could last—no, _surpass_ eternity.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Explanations:<span>**

**(1) That's a Chinese saying that's roughly translated; somehow it's like giving your children a blessed life from the gods after what you've done in the past that have pleased them. I'm sorry if it sounds odd.**

**(2) Most of the Japanese believe in Shintou, and Buddhism comes in second.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author Speaking:<span>**

**Hello there guys! This is the last chapter of the whole story! If you've read it from the beginning word by word, I thank you for staying with me to the end!**

**I was so happy that I've stayed up late at night with just about roughly five hours of sleep for the next day when I finally get to the ending, and the situation lasted for nearly a week! I'm so dead tired, but absolutely happy that I can finally bring this fic into the light and share it with you! I hope that I've kept you guys happy and given you a wonderful time when reading this fic!**

**Kuroi Kokoro 09**


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